They parted in the hall at the foot of the stairs.

"I hope you'll sleep all right," said Tony, smiling down at her. "I'm
afraid you'll find it a bit of a picnic, though, without any of the
'comforts of home'!"

He had hardly finished speaking when the hotel door swung open, and a man
came striding in from outside. As he paused on the threshold to pull off
the heavy coat he was wearing, he shot a casual glance in the direction
of the two people standing together by the staircase. Then, his gaze
concentrating suddenly, he stared at Tony with an odd intentness.

"Good-night, Tony." Ann's voice travelled softly to his ears, and at the
sound of it the man transferred his gaze from Tony's face to hers. He
himself remained standing unobserved in the curtained shadow of the entry,
and, when Ann had gone upstairs, Tony passed him on the way to his own room
on the ground floor without noticing his presence.

The man's glance followed him speculatively. Strolling across to the
bureau, he opened the visitors' book, flicking over the leaves till he came
to the current page. He ran his fingers down the list of names, pausing
abruptly at the last inscription: "_G. Smith and sister_." Followed the
illuminating word, "_London_."

With a brief, ironical smile he closed the book. Then he, too, took his
way to bed, and presently the Hotel de Loup was wrapped in the profound
stillness of night.