“Splendid!” said Victoire. “Splendid!”
“Well, there I was, outside Paris, and I’m hanged if I know where. I went on half a mile, and then I rested. Oh, how sleepy I was! I would have given a hundred thousand francs for an hour’s sleep—cheerfully. But I dared not let myself sleep. I had to get back here unseen. There were you and Sonia.”
“Sonia? Another woman?” cried Victoire. “Oh, it’s then that I’m frightened ... when you get a woman mixed up in your game. Always, when you come to grief ... when you really get into danger, there’s a woman in it.”
“Oh, but she’s charming!” protested Lupin.
“They always are,” said Victoire drily. “But go on. Tell me how you got here.”
“Well, I knew it was going to be a tough job, so I took a good rest—an hour, I should think. And then I started to walk back. I found that I had come a devil of a way—I must have gone at Marathon pace. I walked and walked, and at last I got into Paris, and found myself with still a couple of miles to go. It was all right now; I should soon find a cab. But the luck was dead against me. I heard a man come round the corner of a side-street into a long street I was walking down. He gave a yell, and came bucketing after me. It was that hound Dieusy. He had recognized my figure. Off I went; and the chase began again. I led him a dance, but I couldn’t shake him off. All the while I was working my way towards home. Then, just at last, I spurted for all I was worth, got out of his sight, bolted round the corner of the street into the secret entrance, and here I am.” He smiled weakly, and added, “Oh, my dear Victoire, what a profession it is!”
CHAPTER XXI
THE CUTTING OF THE TELEPHONE WIRES
The door opened, and in came Charolais, bearing a tray.
“Here’s your breakfast, master,” he said.
“Don’t call me master—that’s how his men address Guerchard. It’s a disgusting practice,” said Lupin severely.