"Hang it all! I've no objection to a Don Juan reputation, but I may say, without offence, that, as a woman, there's nothing particularly attractive about you, Juve, in the garb you've just discarded!" "Bah!" replied Juve. "You mustn't be so particular, my dear boy--as if dress mattered--or appearance either!" Juve was lighting a cigarette as he walked about the room, examining the books and other objects with which Fandor had surrounded himself. "A charming home!" murmured the detective.... Then, he inspected the contents of a little show-case, in which Fandor had collected what he called his "Circumstantial Evidence"; in other words, various objects relating to cases he had been engaged on, such as scraps of clothing, blood-stained weapons, broken locks: these records of crimes, new and old, were carefully labelled. Juve began questioning Fandor about these sinister relics. Five minutes of jokes and laughter, then Fandor became serious. He drew his friend to a corner settee. "Juve," said he, in an impressive tone, "I have found the connecting link!" "By Jove! You have, have you!" cried Juve in a bantering tone, and with a quizzical look. "Let us see it!... Explain!..." Regardless of his friend's scepticism, Fandor proceeded to expound his theory. "I did as you suggested. I was present at the trial of the smugglers: I listened to Counsel's speech for the defence, but judged it useless to stay to the end. When Maitre Henri Robart began a disquisition on the facts, I left. Here is what I have noted: "Someone owns a house in the Isle of the Cite; a house which is a meeting place for receivers of stolen goods, ruffians, robbers, and vagabonds: a house possessing underground cellars of no ordinary kind. Now, this Someone never mentions this strange house of his, though he must be aware of its existence; then this Someone knows intimately several, at least, of the people more or less involved in the Jacques Dollon affair, and--one may boldly assert it--the Dollon plot was hatched in a cellar, in a sewer of the Cite. "One of two things!... "Either this personage is timorous, is afraid of being compromised, and does not consider in what an awkward position this coincidence places him--if that be so, he is a singularly thick-headed individual--or--well--Monsieur Thomery ... you are the most rascally scoundrel it has been my lot to admire, up to now! But I assure you, we know how to get even with you! From the moment we have established, in the first place, a connection between all these affairs--that they indubitably hang together; secondly, that you, Monsieur Thomery, are the connecting link...." "No," interrupted Juve, sharply.... "What is that you say?..." "I say--_no_." "What?" cried Fandor, taken aback. He stared at Juve, who continued to smoke his cigarette, unmoved. But Fandor was obstinately set on stating his point of view.