“It’s just as well,” said Siméon. “I’m not feeling strong enough yet. Say that I’ll call at ten o’clock.”
“Shall I give your name as Siméon?”
“No, my real name, Armand Belval. Say it’s urgent, say it’s a surgical case.”
The porter did so and hung up the instrument, with a moan:
“Oh, my poor M. Siméon! A man like you, so good and kind to everybody! Tell me what happened?”
“Don’t worry about that. Is my place ready?”
“To be sure it is.”
“Take me there without any one seeing us.”
“As usual.”
“Be quick. Put your revolver in your pocket. What about your lodge? Can you leave it?”