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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"Monsieur Lecoq"


Such, however, was not Lecoq's intention, and he did not even move,
though he had need of all his self-possession to retain his English
accent. "This is very annoying," said he, "very! I am even more anxious
and undecided than I was before, since I am not certain that this is the
man I am seeking for."
"Unfortunately, sir, I can tell you nothing more," calmly replied the
landlady.
Lecoq reflected for a moment, knitting his brows and biting his lips,
as if he were trying to discover some means of solving the mystery. In
point of fact, he was seeking for some adroit phrase which might lead
this woman to show him the register in which all travelers are compelled
to inscribe their full names, profession, and usual residence. At the
same time, however, it was necessary that he should not arouse her
suspicions.
"But, madame," said he at last, "can't you remember the name this man
gave you? Was it May? Try to recollect if that was the name--May--May!"
"Ah! I have so many things to remember. But now I think of it, and the
name must be entered in my book, which, if it would oblige you, I can
show you. It is in the drawer of my writing-table. Whatever can I have
done with my keys?"
And while the hostess, who seemed to possess about as much intelligence
as her starling, was turning the whole office upside down looking for
her keys, Lecoq scrutinized her closely. She was about forty years of
age, with an abundance of light hair, and a very fair complexion.


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