"Caught!" he cried, while yet on the threshold, "caught, nipped,
squeezed, strung, trapped, locked! We have got the man."
Old Tabaret, more Tirauclair than ever, gesticulated with such comical
vehemence and such remarkable contortions that even the tall clerk
smiled, for which, however, he took himself severely to task on going to
bed that night.
But M. Daburon, still under the influence of Noel's deposition, was
shocked at this apparently unseasonable joy; although he felt the safer
for it. He looked severely at old Tabaret, saying,--"Hush, sir; be
decent, compose yourself."
At any other time, the old fellow would have felt ashamed at having
deserved such a reprimand. Now, it made no impression on him.
"I can't be quiet," he replied. "Never has anything like this been known
before. All that I mentioned has been found. Broken foil, lavender kid
gloves slightly frayed, cigar-holder; nothing is wanting. You shall have
them, sir, and many other things besides. I have a little system of my
own, which appears by no means a bad one. Just see the triumph of my
method of induction, which Gevrol ridiculed so much. I'd give a hundred
francs if he were only here now.
Pages:
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303