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Rohmer, Sax, 1883-1959

"Tales of Chinatown"


I looked and looked at the dwarfed figure of. . . Tcheriapin!
All these impressions came to me in the space of a few hectic
moments, when in upon my mental tumult intruded a husky whisper
from the man on the sofa.
"Kreener!" he said. "Kreener!"
At the sound of that name, and because of the way in which it was
pronounced, I felt my blood running cold. The speaker was
staring straight at my companion.
I clutched at the open door. I felt that there was still some
crowning horror to come. I wanted to escape from that reeking
room, but my muscles refused to obey me, and there I stood while:
"Kreener!" repeated the husky voice, and I saw that the speaker
was rising unsteadily to his feet.
"You have brought him again. Why have you brought him again? He
will play. He will play me a step nearer to Hell."
"Brace yourself, Colquhoun," said the voice of my companion.
"Brace yourself."
"Take him awa'!" came in a sudden frenzied shriek. "Take him
awa'! He's there at your elbow, Kreener, mockin' me, and
pointing to that damned violin."
"Here!" said the stranger, a high note of command in his voice.
"Drop that! Sit down at once."
Even as the other obeyed him, the cloaked stranger, stepping to
the mantelpiece, opened a small box which lay there beside the
glass case.


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