You're always making a mess of it.

Why, if the thieves didn't know their work better they would starve." The hint of an invincible multitude behind that man's back roused a sombre indignation in the breast of the Professor.

He smiled no longer his enigmatic and mocking smile.

The resisting power of numbers, the unattackable stolidity of a great multitude, was the haunting fear of his sinister loneliness.

His lips trembled for some time before he managed to say in a strangled voice: "I am doing my work better than you're doing yours." "That'll do now," interrupted Chief Inspector Heat hurriedly; and the Professor laughed right out this time.