"Mille tonnerres!" cried Jean, kicking the chair viciously,—"it's worse!"
"Worse?"
"Fouchette, you're a fool!"
Mlle. Fouchette kicked the door till it rattled. She also used oaths, rare for her.
"Stop!" he roared. "What in the devil's name are you doing that for? Stop!"
"Why not? I don't want to be a fool. I want to do just as you do, monsieur!"
"Oh, yes! it is funny; but suppose Inspector Loup wanted you for a spy——"
The plate slipped to the floor with a loud crash.
"There!" he exclaimed. And seeing how confused she got,—"Never mind, Fouchette. Come here! Look at that!"
Inspector Loup had politely requested Monsieur Marot to furnish privately any information in connection with the recent discoveries at his appartement which might be useful to the government,—especially in the nature of correspondence, etc.