"That is how," resumed Juve, "with this very simple process, you can decipher the finger prints of persons who have written or rested their hands on anything--paper, glass, even wood. According to the clearness of this outline which is thrown up by the coagulation of the plumbago--thanks to the ordinary moisture of the hand--which was laid on the paper, I can assure you that some one wrote on Lady Beltham's desk about ten days ago." "It is wonderful," said Fandor. "Here, then, is proof positive that her Ladyship visits her house from time to time." "Correct--or at least that some one goes there, for that is a man's hand." "Well, what are you going to do now, Juve?" "Now? I'm off to the Prefecture to get rid of my false embonpoint, which bothers me no end. I have never been so glad that I am not naturally stout." Fandor laughed. "And I own to you that I shan't be sorry to get rid of my false moustache. All the while I was inspecting that cursed house, this moustache kept tickling my nose and making me want to sneeze." "You should have done so." "But suppose my moustache had come off?" XXXI LOVERS AND ACCOMPLICES "Oh! who is that?" From the shadow issued some one who calmly replied: "It is I." "Ah!--I know you now, but why this disguise?" "Madame the Superior--I present myself--Doctor Chaleck. Isn't my disguise as good as yours?" "What do you want of me? Speak quickly, I am frightened." "To begin with, I thank you for coming to the tryst at your house--at ours. For five Tuesdays I have waited in vain. But first, madame, explain your sudden conversion, the reason of your sudden entry into Orders. That is a strange device for the mistress of Gurn." Doctor Chaleck held under the lash of his irony the unhappy woman who seemed overcome by anxiety. The two were facing each other in the large room that formed the middle of the first floor of the house in Boulevard Inkermann at Neuilly. It was, in fact, the only room fit to use: they had left to neglect and inclement weather the other rooms in the elegant mansion which some years before was considered in the Parisian world as one of the most comfortable and luxurious in the foreign colony. It was in truth here that in days gone by the tragic drama had been played: death had laid its cold hand upon the gilded trappings of the great apartment and laughter and joy had taken flight. However, time passes so quickly and evil memories so soon grow dim that many had forgotten the grim happenings which three years before had beset the mansion on the Boulevard.