"I had your address from the blonde lady."
"Clotilde?"
"Yes. You remember ... yesterday morning ... when I meant to carry her off in the motor-cab, she telephoned to her dressmaker."
"So she did."
"Well, I understood later that the dressmaker was yourself. And, last night, in the boat, thanks to an effort of memory which is perhaps one of the things of which I am most proud, I succeeded in recollecting the last two figures of your telephone number: 73. In this way, as I possessed the list of the houses which you had 'touched up,' it was easy for me, on my arrival in Paris at eleven o'clock this morning, to look through the telephone directory until I discovered the name and address of M. Félix Davey. The name and address once known, I called in the aid of M. Ganimard."
"Admirable! First-rate! I make you my bow! But what I can't quite grasp is that you took the train at the Havre. How did you manage to escape from the Hirondelle?"
"I did not escape."
"But ..."
"You gave the captain orders not to reach Southampton until one o'clock. Well, they landed me at twelve and I caught the Havre boat."
"The captain played me false? Impossible."