He reviewed the whole question--chances, probabilities, and risks, not one was neglected, but all in vain.
"A thousand devils!" growled he; "are the police at my heels ?" His nerves were terribly shaken, and he strove in vain to regain his customary audacity.

By this time he had reached the door of Paul's room, and, on his ringing, the door was at once opened; but at the sight of this woman he started back, with a cry of angry surprise; for it was a female figure that stood before him, a young girl--Flavia, the daughter of Martin Rigal, the banker.
The keen eyes of Tantaine showed him that Flavia's visit had not been of long duration.

She had removed her hat and jacket, and was holding in her hand a piece of fancy work.
"Whom do you wish to see, sir ?" asked she.
The old man strove to speak, but his lips would not frame a single sentence.

A band of steel seemed to be compressing his throat, and he appeared like a man about to be seized with an apoplectic fit.
Flavia gazed upon the shabby-looking visitor with an expression of intense disgust.

It seemed to her that she had seen him somewhere; in fact, there was an inexplicable manner about him which entirely puzzled her.
"I want to speak to M.Paul," said the old man in a low, hoarse whisper; "he is expecting me." "Then come in; but just now his doctor is with him." She threw open the door more widely, and stepped back, so that the greasy garments of the visitor might not touch her dress.