Inspector Vérot wiped his forehead and, pulling himself together, said:
"It's just a little tiredness…. I've been overworking myself lately: I was very keen on clearing up a case which Monsieur Desmalions had put in my hands. All the same, I have a funny sort of feeling—"
"Will you have a pick-me-up?"
"No, no; I'm more thirsty."
"A glass of water?"
"No, thank you."
"What then?"
"I should like—I should like—"
His voice faltered. He wore a troubled look, as if he had suddenly lost his power of getting out another word. But he recovered himself with an effort and asked:
"Isn't Monsieur Desmalions here?"