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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"The Yellow Claw"


"A branch establishment--merely a sacred caravanserai where votaries
might repose ere reentering the ruder world," continued Gianapolis--"has
unfortunately been raided by the police!"
With that word, POLICE, he seemed to come to earth again.
"Our arrangements, I am happy to say, were such that not one of the
staff was found on the premises and no visible link existed between
that establishment and this. But now let us talk about yourself. You may
safely take an evening off, I think"...
He scrutinized Soames attentively.
"You will be discreet as a matter of course, and I should not recommend
your visiting any of your former haunts. I make this proposal, of
course, with the full sanction of Mr. King."
The muscles of Soames' jaw tightened at sound of the name, and he
avoided the gaze of the crossed eyes.
"And the real purpose of my visit here this morning is to acquaint you
with the little contrivance by which we ensure our privacy here. Once
you are acquainted with it, you can take the air every evening at
suitable hours, on application to Mr. Ho-Pin."
Soames coughed dryly.
"Very good," he said in a strained voice; "I am glad of that."
"I knew you would be glad, Soames," declared the smiling Gianapolis;
"and now, if you will step this way, I will show you the door by which
you must come and go.


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