The Insidious Dr. Fu Manchu by Sax Rohmer
page 2 of 325 (00%)
page 2 of 325 (00%)
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"Excuse me, Petrie!" he broke in. "Don't put it down to the sun!"
And he put out the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. I was too surprised to speak. "No doubt you will think me mad," he continued, and, dimly, I could see him at the window, peering out into the road, "but before you are many hours older you will know that I have good reason to be cautious. Ah, nothing suspicious! Perhaps I am first this time." And, stepping back to the writing-table he relighted the lamp. "Mysterious enough for you?" he laughed, and glanced at my unfinished MS. "A story, eh? From which I gather that the district is beastly healthy-- what, Petrie? Well, I can put some material in your way that, if sheer uncanny mystery is a marketable commodity, ought to make you independent of influenza and broken legs and shattered nerves and all the rest." I surveyed him doubtfully, but there was nothing in his appearance to justify me in supposing him to suffer from delusions. His eyes were too bright, certainly, and a hardness now had crept over his face. I got out the whisky and siphon, saying: "You have taken your leave early?" "I am not on leave," he replied, and slowly filled his pipe. "I am on duty." "On duty!" I exclaimed. "What, are you moved to London or something?" |
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