But he could see nothing unusual.

It was an attractive petticoat, dainty with frills and lace, but it was hardly a thing to grow thoughtful over.

He looked up in perplexity and saw that Hanaud was watching his investigations with a smile of amusement.
"When M.Ricardo has put that away," he said, "we will hear what Helene Vauquier has to tell us." He passed out of the door last, and, locking it, placed the key in his pocket.
"Helene Vauquier's room is, I think, upstairs," he said.

And he moved towards the staircase.
But as he did so a man in plain clothes, who had been waiting upon the landing, stepped forward.

He carried in his hand a piece of thin, strong whipcord.
"Ah, Durette!" cried Besnard.