"Oh!" cried Fandor, "that's only because I hardly looked at you. If I had, Juve, you may be sure I should have recognised you!"
"Possibly! But what do you think of the disguise?"
"Not so bad, Juve; but why did you change your sex this evening?"
"Oh, for the fun of it, and to keep my hand in ... besides, the more precautions we take when we meet, the better. Admit for a moment that our enemies are keeping a watch on you here: what will they recollect about your doings this evening? Why, that Fandor, the journalist, had a call from a lady, and that she did not leave in a hurry either!"
"Hang it all! I've no objection to a Don Juan reputation, but I may say, without offence, that, as a woman, there's nothing particularly attractive about you, Juve, in the garb you've just discarded!"
"Bah!" replied Juve. "You mustn't be so particular, my dear boy—as if dress mattered—or appearance either!"
Juve was lighting a cigarette as he walked about the room, examining the books and other objects with which Fandor had surrounded himself.
"A charming home!" murmured the detective....
Then, he inspected the contents of a little show-case, in which Fandor had collected what he called his "Circumstantial Evidence"; in other words, various objects relating to cases he had been engaged on, such as scraps of clothing, blood-stained weapons, broken locks: these records of crimes, new and old, were carefully labelled. Juve began questioning Fandor about these sinister relics. Five minutes of jokes and laughter, then Fandor became serious. He drew his friend to a corner settee.
"Juve," said he, in an impressive tone, "I have found the connecting link!"