You want that cheque turned into cash--you want to get out of London
tonight? All right--then hand over your check and keep quiet till I come
back. Is there anything else now--any bit of luggage you want?"
"You do all this if I pay you one hundred pounds?" asked Yada.
"That'll do me, mister," answered Melky. "I'm a poor fellow, d'ye see?--I
don't pick up a hundred quid every day, I assure you! So if there is
anything--"
"A suit-case--at the luggage office at Oxford Circus Tube," said Yada. "I
must have it--papers, you understand. If you will get me that--"
"Give me the ticket--and that cheque," said Melky. He slipped the two bits
of paper into his pocket, and made for the door. "I'll turn the key
outside," he said. "You'll be safer. Make yourself comfortable, mister--
I'll be back in an hour with the money and the goods."
Two minutes later Melky confronted Zillah in the parlour and grinned at
her. Zillah regarded him suspiciously.
"What's this, Melky?" she demanded. "What're you up to?"
"Zillah!" said Melky, "you'll be proud of your cousin, Melky Rubinstein,
before ever it's dinner-time--you will do, Zillah! And in the meantime,
keep your counsel, Zillah, while he fetches a nice large policeman.
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