It is not my fault if, in the document which I have cited, Rouletabille thought fit to refer to his childhood.
"But now, since the occurrence of the inexplicable gallery, I did not reason at all.

I stood there, stupid, before the apparition--so pale and so beautiful--of Mademoiselle Stangerson.

She was clad in a dressing-gown of dreamy white.

One might have taken her to be a ghost--a lovely phantom.

Her father took her in his arms and kissed her passionately, as if he had recovered her after being long lost to him.
I dared not question her.