I was putting the finishing touches to
my toilette about 7 A.M. when I heard a knock at my door, and
without waiting permission l'Echelle rushed in.
"Already dressed? What luck! There is not a moment to lose. Come
along. I've a _fiacre_ at the door below."
He gave the _etablissement_ as the address, and we were soon tearing
down the hill. As we drove along l'Echelle told me the news.
"It's come, that satanic telegram, and just what he wanted, I'm
prepared to swear. He simply jumped for joy when he read it."
"But what was the message? Go on, go on, out with it!" I shouted
almost mad with excitement.
"I can't tell you that, for I haven't seen it yet."
"Are you making a fool of me?"
"How could I see it? He put it straight into his pocket. But I mean
to see it pretty soon, and so shall you."
"You mean to abstract it somehow--pick his pocket, or what?"
"Simplest thing in the world. You see he's gone to have his bath, he
likes to be early, and he's undergoing the douche at this very moment,
which means naturally that he's taken off his clothes, and they are
waiting in the dressing-room for me to take home.
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