As I had left my friend in very ill humour I
thought that this would be a good excuse for an early call, and
just before eleven o'clock I walked into his office. Innes, his
invaluable secretary, showed me into the study at the back.
"Hallo, Knox," said Harley, looking up from a little silver
Buddha which he was examining, "have you come to ask for news of
the Kwen Lung case?"
"No," I replied. "Is there any?"
Harley shook his head.
"It seems like fate," he declared, "that this thing should have
been sent to me this morning." He indicated the silver Buddha.
"A present from a friend who knows my weakness for Chinese
ornaments," he explained grimly. "It reminds me of that damned
joss of Kwen Lung's!"
I took up the little image and examined it with interest. It was
most beautifully fashioned in the patient Oriental way, and there
was a little hinged door in the back which fitted so perfectly
that when closed it was quite impossible to detect its presence.
I glanced at Harley.
"I suppose you didn't find a jewel inside?" I said lightly.
"No," he replied; "there was nothing inside."
But even as he uttered the words his whole expression changed,
and so suddenly as to startle me. He sprang up from the table,
and:
"Have you an hour to spare, Knox?" he cried excitedly.
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