"Come, now, Juve, have you eyes in your back? How can you know what is going on at Doctor Chaleck's table, while you are looking in the opposite direction?"
Juve handed his eye-glass to the journalist.
"Ah! Now I see! A trick eye-glass, with a mirror in it—not a bad idea."
"It is quite simple," murmured Juve. "The main thing is to have thought of it. Come, let us go down."
"What? And desert the doctor?"
"An arrest should never be made in a public place when it can be avoided. Here, give me your card that I may send it up with mine."
Juve called M. Dominique, the manager, and, pointing out Chaleck to him, said:
"M. Dominique, please give our cards to that gentleman and say that we are waiting outside to speak to him."
In a few moments Chaleck came out of the saloon to the Place Pigalle.
His face was calm and his glance unmoved. Juve laid his hand upon the doctor's shoulder, and, signalling to a subordinate in uniform, cried: