"They are!" And he dropped the curtain with an oath.
"And he isn't here! Suppose they come....

Suppose he comes to the front door! They'll catch him!" cried Victoire.
There came a startling peal at the front-door bell.

They stood frozen to stone, their eyes fixed on one another, staring.
The bell had hardly stopped ringing, when there was a slow, whirring noise.

The doors of the lift flew open, and the Duke stepped out of it.
But what a changed figure from the admirably dressed dandy who had walked through the startled detectives and out of the house of M.
Gournay-Martin at midnight! He was pale, exhausted, almost fainting.
His eyes were dim in a livid face; his lips were grey.

He was panting heavily.