"So monsieur is fond of the chase of the hare?" he asked, with a grim smile.
"So fond, Monsieur le Brigadier," I replied, "that my enthusiasm has, as you see, led me thoughtlessly into your private territory. I beg of you to accept my sincere apologies."
He reached back of him, took down one of the musty ledgers, and began to turn the leaves methodically. From where I sat I saw his coarse forefinger stop under a head-line.
"Smeeth, Berkelek," he muttered, and read on down the page. "Citizen of Amérique du Nord.
"Height—medium.
"Age—forty-one.
"Hair—auburn.
"Eyes—brown.
"Chin and frontal—square.
"No scars."