She grasped the hands of Kazmah as they rested motionless, on the chair-arms.
Complete darkness came.
Out of it rose a husky, terrified cry—a second, louder cry; and then a long, wailing scream... horror-laden as that of one who has touched some slumbering reptile....
CHAPTER IV.
THE CLOSED DOOR
Rather less than five minutes later a taxicab drew up in old Bond Street, and from it Quentin Gray leapt out impetuously and ran in at the doorway leading to Kazmah’s stairs. So hurried was his progress that he collided violently with a little man who, carrying himself with a pronounced stoop, was slinking furtively out.
The little man reeled at the impact and almost fell, but:
“Hang it all!” cried Gray irritably. “Why the devil don’t you look where you’re going!”
He glared angrily into the face of the other. It was a peculiar and rememberable face, notable because of a long, sharp, hooked nose and very little, foxy, brown eyes; a sly face to which a small, fair moustache only added insignificance. It was crowned by a wide-brimmed bowler hat which the man wore pressed down upon his ears like a Jew pedlar.
“Why!” cried Gray, “this is the second time tonight you have jostled me!”
He thought he had recognized the man for the same who had been following himself, Mrs. Irvin and Sir Lucien Pyne along old Bond Street.