find themselves face to face, they hold a certain reserve toward
each other. They know each other to have nearly equal experience,
to be shrewd, clear-headed, equally interested in discovering the
truth, not disposed to confide in appearances, difficult to
surprise. Each one, likely enough, gives a different interpretation
to the facts revealed; each may have a different theory of the deed;
but a superficial observer would not note these differences. Each,
while dissimulating his real thoughts, tries to penetrate those of
his neighbor, and if they are opposed to his own, to convert him
to his opinion. The great importance of a single word justifies
this caution. Men who hold the liberty and lives of others in their
hands, a scratch of whose pen condemns to death, are apt to feel
heavily the burden of their responsibility. It is an ineffable
solace, to feel that this burden is shared by others. This is, why
no one dares take the initiative, or express himself openly; but
each awaits other opinions, to adopt or oppose them. They exchange
fewer affirmations than suggestions. They proceed by insinuation;
then they utter commonplaces, ridiculous suppositions, asides,
provocative, as it were, of other explanations.

In this instance, the judge of instruction and Plantat were far
from being of the same opinion; they knew it before speaking a word.
But M. Domini, whose opinion rested on material and palpable facts,
which appeared to him indisputable, was not disposed to provoke
contradiction. Plantat, on the contrary, whose system seemed to
rest on impressions, on a series of logical deductions, would not
clearly express himself, without a positive and pressing invitation.
His last speech, impressively uttered, had not been replied to; he
judged that he had advanced far enough to sound the detective.