In his left hand
he held an amber cigarette tube in which a cigarette smoldered gently,
sending up a gray pencil of smoke into the breathless, perfumed air.
"Mr. Ho-Pin," said Gianapolis, indicating the Chinaman, "who will attend
to your requirements. This is our new friend from Paris, introduced by
Sir B. M----, M. Gaston."
"You are vewry welcome," said the Chinaman in his monotonous, metallic
voice. "I understand that a fee of twenty-five guineas"--he bowed again,
still smiling.
The visitor took out his pocket-book and laid five notes, one sovereign,
and two half-crowns upon a little ebony table beside him. Ho-Pin bowed
again and waved his hand toward the lemon-colored door on the left.
"Good night, M. Gaston!" said Gianapolis, in radiant benediction.
"Au revoir, monsieur!"
M. Max followed Ho-Pin to Block A and was conducted to a room at
the extreme right of the matting-lined corridor. He glanced about it
curiously.
"If you will pwrepare for your flight into the subliminal," said Ho-Pin,
bowing in the doorway, "I shall pwresently wreturn with your wings."
In the cave of the golden dragon, Gianapolis sat smoking upon one of the
divans. The silence of the place was extraordinary; unnatural, in the
very heart of busy commercial London.
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