But Achille moved the bowl, lifted the clock, bent down to the grate, in vain: the letter was not there.
“Oh blast it, blast it!” he muttered. “She’s done it . . . she’s taken it.... And then, when she had the letter, she cleared out.... Oh, the slut!...”
Lupin said:
“You’re mad! There’s no way through between the two rooms.”
“Then who did take it, governor?”
They were both of them silent. Lupin strove to control his anger and collect his ideas. He asked:
“Did you look at the envelope?”
“Yes.”
“Anything particular about it?”
“Yes, it looked as if it had been written in a hurry, or scribbled, rather.”