Empty with the exception of Tictocq, the great French detective, who springs from behind a mass of tropical plants to his side.
The professor rises in alarm.
“Hush,” says Tictocq: “Make no noise at all. You have already made enough.”
Footsteps are heard outside.
“Be quick,” says Tictocq: “give me those socks. There is not a moment to spare.”
“Vas sagst du?”
“Ah, he confesses,” says Tictocq. “No socks will do but those you carried off from the Populist Candidate’s room.”
The company is returning, no longer hearing the music.
Tictooq hesitates not. He seizes the professor, throws him upon the floor, tears off his shoes and socks, and escapes with the latter through the open window into the garden.