The inspector left the drawing-room. M. Formery plunged at once into frowning meditation.
"I find all this extremely interesting," said the Duke.
"Charmed! Charmed!" said M. Formery, waving his hand with an absent-minded air.
The inspector entered the drawing-room followed by the concierge and his wife. He handed a paper to M. Formery. The concierge, a bearded man of about sixty, and his wife, a somewhat bearded woman of about fifty-five, stared at M. Formery with fascinated, terrified eyes. He sat down in a chair, crossed his legs, read the paper through, and then scrutinized them keenly.
"Well, have you recovered from your adventure?" he said.
"Oh, yes, sir," said the concierge. "They hustled us a bit, but they did not really hurt us."
"Nothing to speak of, that is," said his wife. "But all the same, it's a disgraceful thing that an honest woman can't sleep in peace in her bed of a night without being disturbed by rascals like that. And if the police did their duty things like this wouldn't happen. And I don't care who hears me say it."
