"I heard a shriek like nothing I ever heard in my life. I saw a
light shine through the trap, and then I heard a sort of moaning.
Last, I heard a bang, and the light went out. I staggered down
the passage half silly, started to run, and ran straight into the
arms of two coppers."
This evidence I thought was conclusive, and in accordance with
your instructions I proceeded to Mr. Isaacs in Dover Street. He
didn't seem too pleased at my suggestion, but when I pointed out
to him that one good turn deserved another, he agreed to give me
an introduction to Huang Chow.
I adopted a very simple disguise, just altering my complexion and
sticking on a moustache with spirit gum, hair by hair, and
trimming it down military fashion. Everything ran smoothly, and
I seemed to make a fairly favourable impression upon Lala Huang,
the Chinaman's daughter, who evidently interviews prospective
customers before they are admitted to the warehouse.
She is a Eurasian and extremely good looking. But when I found
myself in the room where old Huang keeps his treasures, I really
thought I was dreaming. It's a collection that must be worth
thousands. He showed me snuff-bottles, cut out of gems, and with
a little opening no bigger than the hole in a pipe-stem, but with
wonderful paintings done inside the bottles.
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