Daburon's study, which was large, and handsomely furnished in accordance
with his position and fortune. Taking up a lamp, he first admired six
very valuable pictures, which ornamented the walls; he then examined
with considerable curiosity some rare bronzes placed about the room, and
bestowed on the bookcase the glance of a connoisseur.
After which, taking an evening paper from the table, he approached the
hearth, and seated himself in a vast armchair.
He had not read a third of the leading article, which, like all leading
articles of the time, was exclusively occupied with the Roman question,
when, letting the paper drop from his hands, he became absorbed
in meditation. The fixed idea, stronger than one's will, and more
interesting to him than politics, brought him forcibly back to La
Jonchere, where lay the murdered Widow Lerouge. Like the child who again
and again builds up and demolishes his house of cards, he arranged and
entangled alternately his chain of inductions and arguments.
In his own mind there was certainly no longer a doubt as regards this
sad affair, and it seemed to him that M. Daburon shared his opinions.
But yet, what difficulties there still remained to encounter!
There exists between the investigating magistrate and the accused a
supreme tribunal, an admirable institution which is a guarantee for all,
a powerful moderator, the jury.
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