He followed him in and at once returned to the lobby and said, in a loud tone of astonishment:
"Why, your man's not here, Mr. Kesselbach. . . . No, don't move . . . finish your letter. . . . I'll go myself."
And he quietly opened the hall-door.
"Mr. Kesselbach?"
He found himself faced by a sort of jovial, bright-eyed giant, who stood swinging from one foot to the other and twisting the brim of his hat between his fingers. He answered:
"Yes, that's right. Who shall I say. . . ?"
"Mr. Kesselbach telephoned. . . . He expects me. . . ."
"Oh, it's you. . . . I'll tell him. . . . Do you mind waiting a minute? . . . Mr. Kesselbach will speak to you."
He had the audacity to leave the visitor standing on the threshold of the little entrance-hall, at a place from which he could see a portion of the sitting-room through the open door, and, slowly, without so much as turning round, he entered the room, went to his confederate by Mr. Kesselbach's side and whispered:
"We're done! It's Gourel, the detective. . . ."