Without emotion, or at least with so little emotion that Sholmes was astonished at her self-control, she declared:
“I do not understand your object, monsieur, and I do not care to; but I command you to say no more and leave this house.”
“I have no intention of forcing my presence on you,” replied Sholmes, with equal sang-froid, “but I shall not leave this house alone.”
“And who will accompany you, monsieur?”
“You will.”
“I?”
“Yes, mademoiselle, we will leave this house together, and you will follow me without one word of protest.”
The strange feature of the foregoing interview was the absolute coolness of the two adversaries. It bore no resemblance to an implacable duel between two powerful wills; but, judging solely from their attitude and the tone of their voices, an onlooker would have supposed their conversation to be nothing more serious than a courteous argument over some impersonal subject.
Clotilde resumed her seat without deigning to reply to the last remark of Herlock Sholmes, except by a shrug of her shoulders. Sholmes looked at his watch and said:
“It is half-past ten. We will leave here in five minutes.”