He opened a window and another door.

The one locked by Raoul, when unbolted, yielded without a key, and the shop stood open.
"My friends," said the trembling proprietor, "if any of you wishes to buy anything, I am ready to serve him.

The rest will please move away." The invitation, though probably understood, was responded to by only a few at the banquette's edge, where a respectable face or two wore scrutinizing frowns.

The remainder persisted in silently standing and gazing in at the bloody man.
Frowenfeld bore the gaze.

There was one element of emphatic satisfaction in it--it drew their observation from Clotilde at the other end of the shop.