"I suppose so." "Has he ever written to you? Do you happen to have a few lines in his handwriting, anything which he left behind, that may serve us as a clue?" "No clue at all. . . . Oh, wait a minute . . . but I don't think that has any importance. . . ." "Speak, speak . . . please. . . ." "Well, two days ago, the gentleman asked permission to use my typewriting machine; and he typed out--with difficulty, for he evidently had no practice--a letter of which I saw the address by accident." "What was the address?" "He was writing to the _Journal_ and he put about twenty stamps into the envelope." "Yes . . . the agony-column, no doubt," said M. Lenormand. "I have to-day's number with me, chief," said Gourel. M. Lenormand unfolded the sheet and looked at the eighth page. Presently, he gave a start. He had read the following sentence, printed with the usual abbreviation:[4] "To any person knowing Mr. Steinweg. Advertiser wishes to know if he is in Paris and his address. Reply through this column." [Footnote 4: Personal advertisements in the French newspapers are charged by the line, not by the word; and consequently nearly every word is clipped down to two, three or four letters.--_Translator's Note._] "Steinweg!" exclaimed Gourel. "But that's the very man whom Dieuzy is bringing to you!" "Yes, yes," said M. Lenormand, to himself, "it's the man whose letter to Mr. Kesselbach I intercepted, the man who put Kesselbach on the track of Pierre Leduc. . . . So they, too, want particulars about Pierre Leduc and his past? . . . They, too, are groping in the dark? . . ." He rubbed his hands: Steinweg was at his disposal. In less than an hour, Steinweg would have spoken. In less than an hour, the murky veil which oppressed him and which made the Kesselbach case the most agonizing and the most impenetrable that he had ever had in hand: that veil would be torn asunder. CHAPTER VI M. LENORMAND SUCCUMBS M. Lenormand was back in his room at the Prefecture of Police at six o'clock in the evening. He at once sent for Dieuzy: "Is your man here?" "Yes, chief." "How far have you got with him?" "Not very. He won't speak a word. I told him that, by a new regulation, foreigners were 'bliged to make a declaration at the Prefecture as to the object and the probable length of their stay in Paris; and I brought him here, to your secretary's office." "I will question him." But, at that moment, an office-messenger appeared: "There's a lady asking to see you at once, chief." "Have you her card?" "Here, chief." "Mrs. Kesselbach! Show her in." He walked across the room to receive the young widow at the door and begged her to take a seat. She still wore the same disconsolate look, the same appearance of illness and that air of extreme lassitude which revealed the distress of her life. She held out a copy of the _Journal_ and pointed to the line in the agony-column which mentioned Steinweg: