“And if I refuse?”
Quong Lung shrugged his shoulders, and said, in an indifferent tone of voice: “Life without opium, and without means of obtaining it, were hell, as you know. Besides, so many accidents are constantly happening in Chinatown.”
“Very well,” replied the other, rising languidly to his feet and thrusting the notes into his pocket; “very well. You must let me have entire possession of this room for the next two days, and provide such assistance and implements as I may require.”
As he was leaving the room he stopped to smell a tuberose that stood on a bamboo flower-stand. The passing act seemed to give him an idea, for he turned suddenly to Quong Lung, saying: “See to it, Quong Lung, that you provide plenty of punk-sticks for the eventful night. You will need them, I am thinking. And be good to this green brother,” pointing to the tuberose.
IV.
Concerning Cherries and Tuberoses.
An hour before the time set for the arrival of Wau Shun, Ray called Quong Lung into the room wherein he had labored almost incessantly during the past two days.
“All’s done,” he said, “save only the payment of my dues.”
“Proceed,” returned Quong Lung, laying ten double eagles on the table and seating himself on his favorite ebony chair.
Ray eyed him curiously while he pocketed the money, and the Chinaman, who seemed to notice everything, rose quickly from the chair and said, with a smile: