Rubinstein. However, I'm going westward just now.
Just going to have a look in at the Great Western Hotel, to see if Mr.
Purdie heard anything from that American chap--and then I'm for home and
bed. Like to come to the hotel with me?"
"Strikes me we might as well make a night of it!" remarked Melky as they
recrossed the road and sought a west-bound train. "We've had such an
evening as I never expected! Mr. Ayscough! when on earth is this going to
come to something like a clearing-up?"
Ayscough settled himself in a corner of a smoking-carriage and leaned
back.
"My own opinion," he said, "is that it's coming to an end. Tomorrow, the
news of the Chinaman's murder'll be the talk of the town. And if that
doesn't fetch Levendale out of whatever cranny he's crept into, hanged if
I know what will!"
"Ah! you think that, do you?" said Melky. "But--why should that news fetch
him out?"
"Don't know!" replied Ayscough, almost unconcernedly. "But I'm almost
certain that it will. You see--I think Levendale's looking for Chen Li.
Now, if Levendale hears that Chen Li's lying dead in our mortuary--what?
See?"
Melky murmured that Mr.
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