The Mask of Fu-Manchu
“The window space was perfectly blank, now. The iron box had gone; the black man had gone. This miracle had been achieved with scarcely any sound!
The legend of Spring-heeled Jack crossed my mind again. Then I was up. My period of enforced inactivity was ended.
I pressed the button of my torch and, springing out from behind the big trunk, directed a ray along the narrow room. The air was still heavy with a vague sickly perfume of mimosa; but I gave no glance at the pillow which had been sprayed ...with this strange anaesthetic. The bed had been carefully prepared by Nayland Smith to produce the appearance of a sleeper.
“An old dodge of mine, Greville,” he had said, “which will certainly fail if the enemy suspects that I am here.”
Either the enemy did not suspect, or, like the ancient confidence trick, it was a device which age did not wither nor custom stale...
As though it had been a prearranged cue, that flash of light in the empty room heralded a sound—the sound... an indescribable humming which rose and rose, developed into a sort of wail, then died away like muted roaring… I must explain at this point that from the moment of the figure’s disappearance from the window to that when, switching on the light, I ran forward, only a very few seconds had elapsed.MoreLess
The legend of Spring-heeled Jack crossed my mind again. Then I was up. My period of enforced inactivity was ended.
I pressed the button of my torch and, springing out from behind the big trunk, directed a ray along the narrow room. The air was still heavy with a vague sickly perfume of mimosa; but I gave no glance at the pillow which had been sprayed ...with this strange anaesthetic. The bed had been carefully prepared by Nayland Smith to produce the appearance of a sleeper.
“An old dodge of mine, Greville,” he had said, “which will certainly fail if the enemy suspects that I am here.”
Either the enemy did not suspect, or, like the ancient confidence trick, it was a device which age did not wither nor custom stale...
As though it had been a prearranged cue, that flash of light in the empty room heralded a sound—the sound... an indescribable humming which rose and rose, developed into a sort of wail, then died away like muted roaring… I must explain at this point that from the moment of the figure’s disappearance from the window to that when, switching on the light, I ran forward, only a very few seconds had elapsed.MoreLess
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Guest 7 months ago
This Rima seem to be a holy pain in the backside, fainting and cringing and clinging nd what not. Seems to have no spine at all, unlike her actions in other books
Guest 7 months ago
t has struck me that Sax Rohmer is foisting a little bit of plagiarism on his readers, in gradually making Barton the absolute facsimile og Doyle's Professor Challenger.
Guest 7 months ago
It's hard to believe nowadays that such utter nonsense would go on over a wedding. The story is saying that the stupid girl 20 years old, is buying more clothes than she could wear in three lifetimes, just for a single day's exhibitionism. Unbelievable.Write Review:
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