Although he had studiously avoided looking at me, that Ah Tsong would
inform his master of the identity of his second visitor I did not
doubt. If I had doubted I should promptly have been disillusioned, for:
"Tell them to go away!" came a muffled cry from somewhere within. "No
spy of Devil Menendez shall ever pass my doors again!"
The Chinaman, on retiring, had left the door wide open, and I could see
right to the end of the gloomy hall. Ah Tsong presently re-appeared,
shuffling along in our direction. Unemotionally:
"Master no got," he repeated.
Paul Harley stamped his foot irritably.
"Good God, Knox," he said, "this unreasonable fool almost exhausts my
patience."
Again he addressed Ah Tsong in Chinese, and although the man's wrinkled
ivory face exhibited no trace of emotion, a deep understanding was to
be read in those oblique eyes; and a second time Ah Tsong turned and
trotted back to the study. I could hear a muttered colloquy in
progress, and suddenly the gaunt figure of Colin Camber burst into
view.
He was shaved this morning, but arrayed as I had last seen him. Whilst
he was not in that state of incoherent anger which I remembered and
still resented, he was nevertheless in an evil temper.
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