Yada, I
believe--Mr. Mori Yada?"
Mr. Yada smiled again, and without rising, indicated two chairs.
"Oh, yes!" he said in excellent English accents. "Pleased to see you--will
you take a chair--and your friend! You want to talk to me?"
Ayscough sat down and unbuttoned his overcoat.
"Much obliged, sir," he said. "Yes--the fact is, Mr. Yada, I called to see
you on a highly important matter that's arisen. Your name, sir, was given
to me tonight by one of the junior house-surgeons at the hospital up the
street--Dr. Pittery."
"Oh, yes, Dr. Pittery--I know," agreed Yada. "Yes?"
"Dr. Pittery tells me, sir," continued Ayscough, "that you know two
Chinese gentlemen who are fellow-students of yours at the hospital, Mr.
Yada?"
The Japanese bowed his dark head and blew out a mouthful of smoke from his
cigar.
"Yes!" he answered readily, "Mr. Chang Li--Mr. Chen Li. Oh, yes!"
"I want to ask you a question, Mr. Yada," said Ayscough, bending forward
and assuming an air of confidence. "When did you see those two gentlemen
last--either of them?"
Yada leaned back in his comfortably padded chair and cast his quick eyes
towards the ceiling.
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