Lala was Oriental, and now, alone in the night, distrust leapt
into being within him. He had been attracted by her and had
pitied her. He told himself now that this was because of her
dark beauty and the essentially feminine appeal which she made.
She was perhaps a vampire of the most dangerous sort, one who
lured men to strange deaths for some sinister object beyond reach
of a Western imagination.

He found himself doubting the success of those tactics upon
which, earlier in the day, he had congratulated himself. Perhaps
beneath the guise of Hampden, who bought antique furniture on
commission, those cunning old eyes beneath the horn-rimmed
spectacles had perceived the detective hidden, or at least had
marked subterfuge.

While he could not count Lala a conquest--for he had not even
attempted to make love to her--the ease with which he had
developed the acquaintance now, afforded matter for suspicion.

At the entrance to the court communicating with the establishment
of Huang Chow he paused, looking cautiously about him. The men
on the Limehouse beats had been warned of the investigation afoot
tonight, and there was a plain-clothes man on point duty at no
great distance away, although carefully hidden, so that Durham
had quite failed to detect his presence.

Durham wore rough clothes and rubber-soled shoes; and now, as he
entered the court, he was thinking of the official report of the
police sergeant who, not so many hours before, had paid a visit