Sherlock Holmes
has no more ardent admirer than....myself."
There was a touch of irony in his voice that he quickly regretted,
for Sherlock Holmes scrutinized him from head to foot with such a
keen, penetrating eye that Arsene Lupin experienced the sensation
of being seized, imprisoned and registered by that look more
thoroughly and precisely than he had ever been by a camera.
"My negative is taken now," he thought, "and it will be useless to
use a disguise with that man. He would look right through it.
But, I wonder, has he recognized me?"
They bowed to each other as if about to part. But, at that moment,
they heard a sound of horses' feet, accompanied by a clinking of
steel. It was the gendarmes. The two men were obliged to draw
back against the embankment, amongst the brushes, to avoid the
horses. The gendarmes passed by, but, as they followed each other
at a considerable distance, they were several minutes in doing so.
And Lupin was thinking:
"It all depends on that question: has he recognized me? If so, he
will probably take advantage of the opportunity. It is a trying
situation."
When the last horseman had passed, Sherlock Holmes stepped forth
and brushed the dust from his clothes.
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