human
He's lost it,
gpt
Lost it? Of course he's lost it, triumphed the detective. And turning to M. Gritz:
human
There's where your murderer picked up a cab. It's perfectly clear. No one has touched that pistol since the man who used it threw it from the window of Number Seven.
gpt
You mean Number Six,
human
I mean Number Seven. We know where the murderer took a cab, now we'll see where he left the hotel. And hurrying toward his dog, he called:
gpt
Back, Caesar!