M. Lenormand rose, took a paper from his pocket and laid it on the table.
"What is this?" asked Valenglay.
"My resignation, Monsieur le Président du Conseil."
Valenglay gave a jump:
"What! Your resignation! For a well-meaning remark which Monsieur le Préfet thinks fit to address to you and to which, for that matter, he attaches no importance whatever—do you, Delaume? No importance whatever—and there you go, taking offence! You must confess, my dear Lenormand, that you're devilish touchy! Come, put that bit of paper back in your pocket and let's talk seriously."
The chief detective sat down again, and Valenglay, silencing the prefect, who made no attempt to conceal his dissatisfaction, said:
"In two words, Lenormand, the thing is that Lupin's reappearance upon the scene annoys us. The brute has defied us long enough. It used to be funny, I confess, and I, for my part, was the first to laugh at it. But it's no longer a question of that. It's a question of murder now. We could stand Lupin, as long as he amused the gallery. But, when he takes to killing people, no!"
"Then what is it that you ask, Monsieur le Président?"
"What we ask? Oh, it's quite simple! First, his arrest and then his head!"
"I can promise you his arrest, some day or another, but not his head."