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M. Paul glanced at the sheet and saw a perfect reproduction of private room Number Six in the Ansonia. Everything was there as on the night of the crime, the delicate yellow hangings, the sofa, the table set for two. And, slowly, as they looked, two holes appeared in the wall.
"Rather clever, your getting on that cab to-night," remarked the other. "Ah, you know about that?" "Yes, and about the Rio Janeiro offer. We want you to reconsider your decision." His voice was harsh and he spoke in a quick, brusque way, as one accustomed to the exercise of large authority. "Who, pray, are 'we'?" asked the detective. "Certain persons interested in this Ansonia affair."
It was a splendid chance, as the exact rendezvous was given, nine o'clock Saturday evening, in private room Number Seven at the Ansonia.
We are at Ansonia, in the Naugatuck valley, one of the chief towns of "Clockland," where, within a radius of twenty miles, watches and clocks are made by millions and sold for a few shillings apiece. Our friend Mr.
"There's some mistake," objected Pleindeaux with professional asperity, at the same time flashing a wrathful look at Lloyd that said plainly: "You see what you have done!" "Now," continued the judge, "you say you have never been in the alleyway that we showed you at the Ansonia. Look at these boots. Do you recognize them?"
But presently when he explained that he was a detective and began to question her about the Ansonia affair, she rose with a haughty gesture that was meant to banish him in confusion from her presence. Coquenil, however, did not "banish" so easily. He had dealt with haughty ladies before. "My dear madam, please sit down," he said quietly.
Nearby was the gasoline plant. Before the incandescent lamp was perfected, the only illumination was from gasoline gas; and that was used later for incandescent-lamp glass-blowing, which was done in another small building on one side of the laboratory. Apparently little or no lighting service was obtained from the Wallace-Farmer arc lamps secured from Ansonia, Connecticut.
No doubt Gibelin had heard the truth and was gloating over it! "How do you know it is the woman's photograph?" questioned the judge. "I'll tell you," replied Gibelin, delighted with his sensation. "It's quite a story. I suppose you know that when this woman slipped out of the Ansonia, she drove directly to the house where we arrested the American. You knew that?" He turned to Coquenil. "No."
They had come down the Champs Elysées, past the Ansonia, and were nearing the Rond Point, the best guarded part of Paris, where the shrill summons of his police call would be answered almost instantly. And yet he hesitated. "There is no hurry, I suppose," said the detective. "I'd like to ask a question or two." "As many as you please."
A number of experiments were witnessed in arc lighting, and Edison secured a small Wallace-Farmer dynamo for his own work, as well as a set of Wallace arc lamps for lighting the Menlo Park laboratory. Before leaving Ansonia, Edison remarked, significantly: "Wallace, I believe I can beat you making electric lights. I don't think you are working in the right direction."
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