The Hand Of Fu-Manchu eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 241 pages of information about The Hand Of Fu-Manchu.

Fan-tan!” he whispered in my ear.

Other forms of gambling were in progress at some of the tables; and now Fletcher silently drew my attention to yet a third dimly lighted apartment—­this opening out from the left-hand corner of the principal room.  The atmosphere of the latter was sufficiently abominable; indeed, the stench was appalling; but a wave of choking vapor met me as I paused for a moment at the threshold of this inner sanctuary.  I formed but the vaguest impression of its interior; the smell was sufficient.  This annex was evidently reserved for opium-smokers.

Fletcher sat down at a small table near by, and I took a common wooden chair which he thrust forward with his foot.  I was looking around at the sordid scene, filled with a bitter sense of my own impotency to aid my missing friend, when that occurred which set my heart beating wildly at once with hope and excitement.  Fletcher must have seen something of this in my attitude, for—­

“Don’t forget what I told you,” he whispered.  “Be cautious!—­be very cautious!...”



Down the center of the room came a girl carrying the only ornamental object which thus far I had seen in the Joy-Shop; a large Oriental brass tray.  She was a figure which must have formed a center of interest in any place, trebly so, then, in such a place as this.  Her costume consisted in a series of incongruities, whilst the entire effect was barbaric and by no means unpicturesque.  She wore high-heeled red slippers, and, as her short gauzy skirt rendered amply evident, black silk stockings.  A brilliantly colored Oriental scarf was wound around her waist and knotted in front, its tasseled ends swinging girdle fashion.  A sort of chemise—­like the ’anteree of Egyptian women—­completed her costume, if I except a number of barbaric ornaments, some of them of silver, with which her hands and arms were bedecked.

But strange as was the girl’s attire, it was to her face that my gaze was drawn irresistibly.  Evidently, like most of those around us, she was some kind of half-caste; but, unlike them, she was wickedly handsome.  I use the adverb wickedly with deliberation; for the pallidly dusky, oval face, with the full red lips, between which rested a large yellow cigarette, and the half-closed almond-shaped eyes, possessed a beauty which might have appealed to an artist of one of the modern perverted schools, but which filled me less with admiration than horror.  For I knew her—­I recognized her, from a past, brief meeting; I knew her, beyond all possibility of doubt, to be one of the Si-Fan group!

This strange creature, tossing back her jet-black, frizzy hair, which was entirely innocent of any binding or ornament, advanced along the room towards us, making unhesitatingly for our table, and carrying her lithe body with the grace of a Ghazeeyeh.

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The Hand Of Fu-Manchu from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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