"As you wish. I have no occasion to detain you long."
In that queer, perfumed room, with the suggestion of something
sinister underlying its exotic luxury, arose a kind of astral
clash as the powerful personality of the Eurasian came in contact
with that of Kerry. In a sense it was a contest of rapier and
battle-axe; an insidious but powerful will enlisted against the
bulldog force of the Chief Inspector.
Still through half-closed eyes Zani Chada watched his visitor,
who stood, feet apart and chin thrust forward aggressively,
staring with wide open, fierce blue eyes at the other.
"I'm going to say one thing," declared Kerry, snapping out the
words in a manner little short of ferocious. He laid his hat and
cane upon a chair and took a step in the direction of the narrow,
laden table. "Make me any kind of offer to buy back the evidence
you think I've got, and I'll bash your face as flat as a frying-
pan."
The yellow hands of Zani Chada clutched the metal knobs which
ornamented the arms of the chair in which he was seated. The
long eyes now presented the appearance of being entirely closed;
otherwise he remained immovable.
Following a short, portentous silence:
"How grossly you misunderstood me, Chief Inspector," Chada
replied, speaking very softly.
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