“Five minutes won’t hurt.”

The lodge opened at the back on a small courtyard, which communicated with a long corridor. At the end of this passage was another yard, in which stood a little house consisting of a ground-floor and an attic.

They went in. There was an entrance-hall followed by three rooms, leading one into the other. Only the second room was furnished. The third had a door opening straight on a street that ran parallel with the Rue Guimard.

They stopped in the second room.

“Did you shut the hall-door after you?”

“Yes, M. Siméon.”

“No one saw us come in, I suppose?”

“Not a soul.”

“No one suspects that you’re here?”

“No.”