“He’ll find it a pretty hard job,” said Guerchard, smiling. “Unless he falls from the ceiling, or unless—”
“Unless you’re Arsène Lupin,” interrupted the Duke.
“In that case, you’d be another, your Grace,” said Guerchard.
They both laughed. The Duke rose, yawned, picked up his coat and hat, and said, “Ah, well, I’m off to bed.”
“What?” said Guerchard.
“Well,” said the Duke, yawning again, “I was staying to see Lupin. As there’s no longer any chance of seeing him—”
“But there is ... there is ... so stay,” cried Guerchard.
“Do you still cling to that notion?” said the Duke wearily.
“We SHALL see him,” said Guerchard.
“Nonsense!” said the Duke.