Only his eyes relieved his face from insignificance.

They were extraordinarily alert eyes, producing in those on whom they rested the somewhat uncomfortable impression that the depths of their souls were being penetrated.

He was the famous Chief-Inspector Guerchard, head of the Detective Department of the Prefecture of Police, and sworn foe of Arsene Lupin.
The policeman at the door of the drawing-room saluted him briskly.

He was a fine, upstanding, red-faced young fellow, adorned by a rich black moustache of extraordinary fierceness.
"Shall I go and inform M.Formery that you have come, M.Guerchard ?" he said.
"No, no; there's no need to take the trouble," said Guerchard in a gentle, rather husky voice.

"Don't bother any one about me--I'm of no importance." "Oh, come, M.Guerchard," protested the policeman.
"Of no importance," said M.Guerchard decisively.