Max seemed to FEEL him smiling--"but this little device has proved so
useful hitherto. In the event of any of those troubles--wretched police
interferences--arising, and of officious people obtaining possession of
a patron's name, he is spared the necessity of perjuring himself in any
way"...
"Perhaps I do not entirely understand you, monsieur?" said M. Max.
"It is so simple. The police are determined to raid one of our
establishments: they adopt the course of tracking an habitue. This is
not impossible. They question him; they ask, 'Do you know a Mr. King?'
He replies that he knows no such person, has never seen, has never
spoken with him! I assure you that official inquiries have gone thus far
already, in New York, for example; but to what end? They say, 'Where is
the establishment of a Mr. King to which you have gone on such and such
an occasion?' He replies with perfect truth, 'I do not know.' Believe me
this little device is quite in your own interest, M. Gaston."
"But when again I feel myself compelled to resort to the solace of the
pipe, how then?"
"So simple! You will step to the telephone and ask for this number: East
18642. You will then ask for Mr. King, and an appointment will be made;
I will meet you as I met you this evening--and all will be well.
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