The spot, not far from Auteuil, on
the edge of a pond hidden amongst the trees, was absolutely
deserted. After the lapse of another half-hour, Ganimard became
impatient and resolved to speak to the man. He approached and took
a seat beside Baudru, lighted a cigarette, traced some figures in
the sand with the end of his cane, and said:
"It's a pleasant day."
No response. But, suddenly the man burst into laughter, a happy,
mirthful laugh, spontaneous and irresistible. Ganimard felt his
hair stand on end in horror and surprise. It was that laugh, that
infernal laugh he knew so well!
With a sudden movement, he seized the man by the collar and looked
at him with a keen, penetrating gaze; and found that he no longer
saw the man Baudru. To be sure, he saw Baudru; but, at the same
time, he saw the other, the real man, Lupin. He discovered the
intense life in the eyes, he filled up the shrunken features, he
perceived the real flesh beneath the flabby skin, the real mouth
through the grimaces that deformed it. Those were the eyes and
mouth of the other, and especially his keen, alert, mocking
expression, so clear and youthful!
"Arsene Lupin, Arsene Lupin," he stammered.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87