Turn back and leave me at the Grand Hotel." Then he muttered: "Krumerweg, crooked way, number forty.

If I see this old side-paddler stopping at the palace steps again, I'll take a look at number forty myself." On the return to the hotel the station omnibus had arrived with a solitary guest.

A steamer trunk and a couple of bags were being trundled in by the porter, while the concierge was helping a short, stocky man to the ground.

He hurried into the hotel, signed the police slips, and asked for his room.

He seemed to be afraid of the dark.