"Very likely. Not a very serious matter, however."
"No. But the question now arises, Why did she turn the box over to Valentin, and subsequently ask him to destroy it?"
"I cannot imagine."
"And why, later, were these cigarettes stolen from Valentin, as I understand they were?"
"It's too much for me. What do you make of it?"
"I have a theory, Mr. Stapleton; but I cannot say just what it is—yet. By the way, where is your man, François, tonight?"
"He is visiting his people, somewhere in the suburbs."
"Ah! Then I would like to search his room, as well."
"Go ahead. You will find nothing, I fear. The police have gone over it with a fine-tooth comb." He rose. "Come along, I'll go with you."
The room occupied by the chauffeur was at the very top of the house, with two windows opening through the slanting mansard roof. One of these, Duvall noted, commanded a view over the houses adjoining toward the north, beyond which could be seen the Avenue du Bois de Boulogne. A second window, toward the south, commanded an extensive view toward Passy.