"The devil!" said Amber thoughtfully. "Why should it be assumed that I have any shadow of an intention of entering that damnable Gateway of Swords?"
An incident at the desk, while he was arranging for his room, further mystified him. He had given his name to the clerk, who looked up, smiling.
"Mr. David Amber?" he said.
"Why, yes—"
"We were expecting you, sir. You came by the Poonah?"
"Yes, but—"
"There's a note for you." The man turned to a rack, sorting out a small square envelope from others pigeon-holed under "A."
Could it be possible that Sophia Farrell had been advised of his coming? Amber's hand trembled slightly with eagerness and excitement as he took the missive.
"An Eurasian boy left it for you half an hour ago," said the clerk.
"Thank you," returned Amber, controlling himself sufficiently to wait until he should be conducted to his room before opening the note.