Drop in, don't
you see, as if you were customers--let there be plenty of you, I repeat.
There are two Pilmanseys--men--middle-aged, sly, smooth, crafty men. When
you are all there, take your own lines--close the place, the doors, if you
like--but get hold of the Pilmansey men, tell them you are police, insist
on being taken to the top floor and shown their opium den. They will
object, they will lie, they will resist--you will use your own methods.
But--in that opium den you will find Chang Li--and your property!"
He had been drawing on his gloves as he spoke, and now, picking up his hat
and umbrella, Yada bowed politely to the circle and moved to the door.
"You will excuse me, now?" he said. "I have an important lecture at the
medical school which I must not miss. I shall be at Pilmansey's, myself, a
little before one--please oblige me by not taking any notice of me. I do
not want to figure--actively--in your business."
Then he was gone--and the rest of them were so deeply taken with the news
which he had communicated that no one noticed that just before Yada
fastened his last glove-button, Melky Rubinstein slipped from his corner
and glided quietly out of the room.
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