As soon as she had gone down again, Bruce walked across to the fire-place, and threw down his cigarette in the grate.
"I didn't get any money," he said abruptly. "The old chap left every cent he had to Reardon, the man who published his book of travels."
"I should dispute the will," I said. "An author who leaves money to a publisher is obviously mad."
Bruce scratched his ear for a moment in silence.
"I've got something else, though," he said at last. Then he stepped to his desk, pulled open the drawer, and took out a small, dark green object.
"What do you make of it?" he said, handing it to me.
I took it, and crossed to the window so as to get it in a better light.
I am not a particularly impressionable person, but when I saw it at close quarters I as nearly as possible dropped it.
"Good heavens," I said, "what a loathsome thing! What is it? A monkey or a devil?"
Bruce laughed uneasily. "It's the Nadir Bandar," he said.