This time he had no misgivings and congratulated himself upon his professional cleverness in tracking his man down.
The same performance was gone through. A ring at the bell brought an answer to the door.
"Who is there?" said a man's voice.
"It is I ... Sergeant Masson."
The door was opened and a young man stood in the hall. He was about thirty and wore an undershirt and drawers.
"Well, Sergeant!"
The sergeant shrank back; he would have been glad if he could have disappeared in the walls. The chief's secretary stood before him.
"I was ... was looking ..." he stammered.
The secretary interrupted with a smile.
"No, he's not here. In fact, we are rarely found together."