For the first time in many days Soames scented the cleaner
air of the upper world, and with it he filled his lungs gratefully.
Behind him was the garage, before him the high wall of a yard, and, on
his right, for a considerable distance, extended a similar wall; in the
latter case evidently that of a wharf--for beyond it flowed the Thames.
Proceeding along beside this wall, the two came to the gates of a
warehouse. They passed these, however, and entered a small office.
Crossing the office, they gained the interior of the warehouse, where
chests bearing Chinese labels were stacked in great profusion.
"Then this place," began Soames...
"Is a ginger warehouse, Soames! There is a very small office staff, but
sufficiently large to cope with the limited business done--in the import
and export of ginger! The firm is known as Kan-Suh Concessions and
imports preserved Chinese ginger from its own plantations in that
province of the Celestial Empire. There is a small wharf attached,
as you may have noted. Oh! it is a going concern and perfectly
respectable!"
Soames looked about him with wide-opened eyes.
"The ginger staff," said Gianapolis, "is not yet arrived. Mr. Ho-Pin
is the manager. The lane, in which the establishment is situated,
communicates with Limehouse Causeway, and, being a cul-de-sac, is little
frequented.
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