Hence, the district was for the police an immense trap,
constantly baited, and to which the game came of their own accord to be
caught.
The result of a tour of inspection of this locality was so certain, that
the officer in charge of the police post called to the squad as they
departed: "I will prepare lodgings for our guests. Good luck to you and
much pleasure!"
This last wish was pure irony, for the weather was the most disagreeable
that could be imagined. A very heavy snow storm had prevailed for
several days. It was now beginning to thaw, and on all the frequented
thoroughfares the slush was ankle-deep. It was still cold, however; a
damp chill filled the air, and penetrated to the very marrow of one's
bones. Besides, there was a dense fog, so dense that one could not see
one's hands before one's face.
"What a beastly job!" growled one of the agents.
"Yes," replied the inspector who commanded the squad; "if you had an
income of thirty thousand francs, I don't suppose you'd be here." The
laugh that greeted this common-place joke was not so much flattery as
homage to a recognized and established superiority.
The inspector was, in fact, one of the most esteemed members of the
force, a man who had proved his worth. His powers of penetration were
not, perhaps, very great; but he thoroughly understood his profession,
its resources, its labyrinths, and its artifices. Long practise had
given him imperturbable coolness, a great confidence in himself, and a
sort of coarse diplomacy that supplied the place of shrewdness.
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