"Have to believe she is," replied the Flirt, "since the 'probes' have kept her."
Loupart turned and tramped downstairs swearing.
"She'll come out of that a damned sight quicker than she went in!"
A few moments later Loupart entered Father Korn's saloon. Having set forth his plans to that worthy, the latter proceeded to demolish them.
"You can't do anything to-day, so there's no use trying. You'll have to wait till to-morrow at midday, the proper visiting hour."
Loupart recognised the truth of the publican's assertion and, calling for writing paper, sat down and scrawled a letter to his mistress.
"Motor," he cried to the cripple who was still at Mother Toulouche's basket, "tumble along with this note to Lâriboisière; look sharp, and when you get back I'll stand you a glass."
As the cripple hurried away he was all but knocked down by a newsboy, running and shouting:
"Extra! Extra! Get The Capital. Extraordinary and mysterious crime of the Cité Frochot. Murder of a woman."
"Shall I get a copy?" asked the publican.