She fixed a pair of astonished eyes upon him and at once recognized him, although bewildered by the extreme youthfulness of his appearance; and this gave her such a shock that she staggered and had to lean against the door for support. He had taken off his hat and was looking at her without daring to put out his hand. Would she put out hers? He was no longer Prince Sernine: he was Arsène Lupin. And she knew that he was Arsène Lupin and that he had just come out of prison.
It was raining outside. She gave her umbrella to the footman and said:
"Please open it and put it somewhere to dry."
Then she walked straight in.
"My poor old chap!" said Lupin to himself, as he walked away. "What a series of blows for a sensitive and highly-strung creature like yourself! You must keep a watch on your heart or . . . Ah, what next? Here are my eyes beginning to water now! That's a bad sign. M. Lupin: you're growing old!"
He gave a tap on the shoulder to a young man who was crossing the Chaussee de la Muette and going toward the Rue des Vignes. The young man stopped, stared at him and said:
"I beg your pardon, monsieur, but I don't think I have the honor . . ."
"Think again, my dear M. Leduc. Or has your memory quite gone? Don't you remember Versailles? And the little room at the Hôtel des Trois-Empereurs?"
The young man bounded backwards:
"You!"