be near you when I slip into the shadows. Will you forgive me, dear?
"Good-night, then, and God bless and keep you!
"Ivan."
I laid the note down and stared at Léontine.
"What does it mean?" I gasped. "Did he commit suicide?"
Léontine shook her head. "No, Frank—at least, I do not think so. Chu-Chu saved him that. But Ivan plainly meant to kill himself. That is why his manner was so strange—so weary and final. You know you said something about his talking like a man at the end of his string—and he answered that he was. He meant to kill himself, either here or not far away."
I nodded. "This note will clear you, Léontine. But throw away the rest of that ice and wash out the bowl. Do so at once."
Léontine nodded and removed the ice. When she returned I said to her:
"Wait until I have been gone for about ten minutes, then telephone for the police. The case will appear sufficiently plain. Ivan came here to die near you."
"But where are you going, Frank?" she asked.
"I am going to settle his account with Chu-Chu," I answered—"and my own!"
So I went into the hot street, caught a taxi at the corner, and hurried to the Prefecture of Police. The Prefect knew my early history, of course, just as he knows that of many other former criminals who are now honoured members of society.
