Sin Sin Wa extended his arm and opened the little cupboard.
“Number one p’lice,” croaked the raven drowsily.
“You catchee sleepee, Tling-a-Ling,” said Sin Sin Wa.
He took out the green-eyed joss, set it tenderly upon a corner of the table, and closed the cupboard door. With a piece of chamois leather, which he sometimes dipped into a little square tin, he began to polish the hideous figure.
CHAPTER XXIX.
DOUBTS AND FEARS
Monte Irvin raised his head and stared dully at Margaret Halley. It was very quiet in the library of the big old-fashioned house at Prince’s Gate. A faint crackling sound which proceeded from the fire was clearly audible. Margaret’s grey eyes were anxiously watching the man whose pose as he sat in the deep, saddle-back chair so curiously suggested collapse.
“Drugs,” he whispered. “Drugs.”
Few of his City associates would have recognized the voice; all would have been shocked to see the change which had taken place in the man.
“You really understand why I have told you, Mr. Irvin, don’t you?” said Margaret almost pleadingly. “Dr. Burton thought you should not be told, but then Dr. Burton did not know you were going to ask me point blank. And I thought it better that you should know the truth, bad as it is, rather than—”
“Rather than suspect—worse things,” whispered Irvin. “Of course, you were right, Miss Halley. I am very, very grateful to you for telling me. I realize what courage it must have called for. Believe me, I shall always remember—”