Now--I'll tell you why after--I want to see that dead
Chinaman! I've a particular reason. Will you come with me to the
mortuary?"
Ayscough's curiosity was aroused by Mirandolet's manner, and without going
back to Purdie's room, he set out with him. Mirandolet remained strangely
silent until they came to the street in which the mortuary stood.
"A strange and mysterious matter this, my friend!" he said. "That little
Rubinstein man might have had some curious premonition when he came to me
tonight with his odd question about Chinese!"
"Just what I said myself, doctor!" agreed Ayscough.
"It did look as if he'd a sort of foreboding, eh? But--Hullo!"
He stopped short as a taxi-cab driven at a considerable speed, came
rushing down the street and passing them swiftly turned into the wider
road beyond. And the sudden exclamation was forced from his lips because
it seemed to him that as the cab sped by he saw a yellow-hued face within
it--for the fraction of a second. Quick as that glimpse was, Ayscough was
still quicker as he glanced at the number on the back of the car--and
memorized it.
"Odd!" he muttered, "odd! Now, I could have sworn--" He broke off, and
hurried after Mirandolet who had stridden ahead.
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