The drop of water that
cooled his wrathful fury was a reflection that flashed across his
brain like lightning. He began to smile, and looked down at his wig.
"You are not in the politest of humors to-day," he remarked to the
chief, and he held out his hands to the policemen with a jerk of his
head.
"Gentlemen," he said, "put on the bracelets or the handcuffs. I call
on those present to witness that I make no resistance."
A murmur of admiration ran through the room at the sudden outpouring
like fire and lava flood from this human volcano, and its equally
sudden cessation.
"There's a sell for you, master crusher," the convict added, looking
at the famous director of police.
"Come, strip!" said he of the Petite Rue Saint-Anne, contemptuously.
"Why?" asked Collin. "There are ladies present; I deny nothing, and
surrender."
He paused, and looked round the room like an orator who is about to
overwhelm his audience.
"Take this down, Daddy Lachapelle," he went on, addressing a little,
white-haired old man who had seated himself at the end of the table;
and after drawing a printed form from the portfolio, was proceeding to
draw up a document.
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