Луна и грош

Chapter XXIV

           HisownplanwastorunupanddownthestreetsthatledoutoftheAvenuedeClichyandaskateveryhouseifStricklandlivedthere.Mycommonplaceschemewas,afterall,effective,forinthesecondshopweaskedatthewomanbehindthecounteracknowledgedthatsheknewhim.Shewasnotcertainwherehelived,butitwasinoneofthethreehousesopposite.Luckfavouredus,andinthefirstwetriedtheconciergetoldusthatweshouldfindhimonthetopfloor.

           "Itappearsthathe’sill,"saidStroeve.

           "Itmaybe,"answeredtheconciergeindifferently."Eneffet,Ihavenotseenhimforseveraldays."

           Stroeveranupthestairsaheadofme,andwhenIreachedthetopfloorIfoundhimtalkingtoaworkmaninhisshirt-sleeveswhohadopenedadooratwhichStroevehadknocked.Hepointedtoanotherdoor.Hebelievedthatthepersonwholivedtherewasapainter.Hehadnotseenhimforaweek.Stroevemadeasthoughhewereabouttoknock,andthenturnedtomewithagestureofhelplessness.Isawthathewaspanic-stricken.

           "Supposinghe’sdead?"

           "Nothe,"Isaid.

           Iknocked.Therewasnoanswer.Itriedthehandle,andfoundthedoorunlocked.Iwalkedin,andStroevefollowedme.Theroomwasindarkness.Icouldonlyseethatitwasanattic,withaslopingroof;andafaintglimmer,nomorethanalessprofoundobscurity,camefromaskylight.

           "Strickland,"Icalled.

           Therewasnoanswer.Itwasreallyrathermysterious,anditseemedtomethatStroeve,standingjustbehind,wastremblinginhisshoes.ForamomentIhesitatedtostrikealight.

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