'There's a light now in the first story!' exclaimed Hugo. 'I hope that
boy won't be long.'
And then Albert arrived with the revolver and the handcuffs. He had been
supernaturally quick.
They descended and crossed the road.
'You understand,' Hugo instructed them. 'Let us have no mistake about
getting in. Immediately the door is opened, in we all go. We can talk
inside.'
'Supposing Albert and me went down to the area-door,' Simon ventured,
'instead of the front-door. We might get in easier that way. It's always
easier to deal with servant-girls and persons of that sort in kitchens.
Then we could come upstairs and let you in at the front-door. Three
detectives seem rather a lot to be entering all at once. And, besides,
you don't look like a detective, sir.'
'What do I look like?' Hugo asked coldly.
'You look too much like a gentleman, sir. It's the hat, sir,' he added.
Simon had certainly surpassed himself that day. He had begun by
surpassing himself at early morning, and he had kept it up. Probably
never before in his life had he been so loquacious and so happy in his
loquacity.
'That's not a bad scheme, Simon,' said Hugo. 'Try it.'
The brothers went down the area-steps while Hugo remained at the gate. A
light burned steadily in the first-floor window.
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