The two managers shuddered. The perspiration streamed from their foreheads. The twelfth stroke sounded strangely in their ears.

When the clock stopped, they gave a sigh and rose from their chairs.

“I think we can go now,” said Moncharmin.

“I think so,” Richard agreed.

“Before we go, do you mind if I look in your pocket?”

“But, of course, Moncharmin, you must !⁠ ⁠… Well?” he asked, as Moncharmin was feeling at the pocket.

“Well, I can feel the pin.”

“Of course, as you said, we can’t be robbed without noticing it.”