“Are you convinced now?” he asked. “Do you want more proofs? Here, you can read the address on these letters from my father: ‘To Monsieur Isidore Beautrelet, Indoor Pupil, Lycée Janson-de-Sailly.’”
Convinced or not, M. Filleul did not look as if he liked the story. He asked, gruffly:
“What are you doing here?”
“Why—I’m—I’m improving my mind.”
“There are schools for that: yours, for instance.”
“You forget, Monsieur le Juge d’Instruction, that this is the twenty-third of April and that we are in the middle of the Easter holidays.”
“Well?”
“Well, I have every right to spend my holidays as I please.”
“Your father—”
“My father lives at the other end of the country, in Savoy, and he himself advised me to take a little trip on the North Coast.”