"Well, well, come to the facts, for although you have been talking ten minutes or more, we have made no progress whatever." Puymirol had now abandoned all idea of repulsing the stranger. His curiosity was greatly excited, and he determined not to part with this man until he had subjected him to a close examination.
"I am coming to the facts, sir, and I trust you will not take offence at the question I am going to ask you. Did you find a pocket-book in the cab which brought you here a fortnight ago?"
"Here it comes at last!" thought Puymirol. "I have you now, my fine fellow."
"A pocket-book?" he repeated aloud in pretended astonishment. "No, certainly not. Had there been one in the cab I should of course have left it there, and as you know the number of the vehicle you should apply to the authorities, or rather to the driver, as you have succeeded in finding him."
"The driver saw nothing of it. He told me so, and I am sure that he told the truth."
"Then you may as well abandon all hope of recovering your pocket-book. It must have been appropriated by one of the persons who hired the vehicle afterwards. Did it contain any bank-notes?"
"Not one; nothing, in fact, but a few lottery tickets which amount to nothing, for no one ever wins anything in the gigantic humbugs that are so extensively advertised."
"Then, why do you attach so much importance to the recovery of such worthless property?"
The stranger reflected for a moment, and then said, gravely: "I don't know who you are, sir, but I feel sure that you are an honourable man, so I do not hesitate to tell you that a woman's reputation is at stake. The pocket-book also contained several letters."
"Good! I understand now. You fear that these letters may have fallen into the hands of some person who will make a bad use of them. That is improbable, however, as they could hardly interest the finder. But how the deuce did you happen to leave them in the cab—for I suppose they were addressed to you?"