"But she had to have my permit ...

my permit on my card! Send the fools up to me!" Bonavent went to the top of the staircase, and called down it.
Guerchard followed him.

Two detectives came hurrying up the stairs and into the drawing-room.
"What the devil do you mean by letting Mademoiselle Kritchnoff leave the house without my permit, written on my card ?" cried Guerchard violently.
"But she had your permit, sir, and it WAS written on your card," stammered one of the detectives.
"It was?
...

it was ?" said Guerchard.

"Then, by Jove, it was a forgery!" He stood thoughtful for a moment.