"I see nothing wrong," remarked M. Paul, glancing about sharply. "Do you?"
"Nothing."
"Except that this door into the corridor is bolted. It didn't bolt itself, did it?"
"No," sighed the other.
Coquenil thought a moment, then he produced the pistol found in the courtyard and examined it with extreme care, then he unlocked the corridor door and looked out. The policeman was still on guard before Number Six.
"I shall want to go in there shortly," said the detective. The policeman saluted wearily.
"Excuse me," ventured M. Gritz, "have you still much to do?"
"Yes," said the other dryly.
"It's nearly four and—I suppose you are used to this sort of thing, but I'm knocked out, I—I'd like to go to bed."
"By all means, my dear sir. I shall get on all right now if—oh, they tell me you make wonderful Turkish coffee here. Do you suppose I could have some?"