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Updated: June 17, 2025
Gianapolis beamed radiantly. "You would, perhaps, like to see such an apartment?" he suggested. "I should, certainly," replied Helen Cumberly. "Not even in a stage setting have I seen anything like it." "You have never been to the East?" "Never, unfortunately. I have desired to go for years, and hope to go some day." "In Smyrna you may see such rooms; possibly in Port Said certainly in Cairo.
"I am sincerely glad that you did," answered the novelist, with one of his kindly, weary smiles. "My dear," said Denise Ryland, turning again to Helen Cumberly, "you say you met that... cross-eyed... being... Gianapolis, again?" "Good Heavens!" cried Helen; "I thought I should never get rid of him; a most loathsome man!"
Gianapolis sat in the revolving chair, staring at the lowered blinds of the window, and brushing up the points of his black mustache. With a fine white silk handkerchief Soames gently wiped the perspiration from his forehead and from the lining of his hat-band. Gianapolis began abruptly: "Tell me all that took place after you left the Post Office."
At twenty-five minutes to eleven, Helen Cumberly came running down the steps of the hotel and hurried toward the Strand. Like a shadow, Gianapolis, throwing away a half-smoked cigarette, glided around the corner, paused and so timed his return that he literally ran into the girl as she entered the main thoroughfare. He started back. "Why!" he cried, "Miss Cumberly!"
Soames nodded eagerly, his eyes upon the speaker's face. "You will accompany Mrs. Leroux to the bank," continued Gianapolis, "in order that she may write a specimen signature, in the presence of the manager, for transmission to the Credit Lyonnais in Paris."... Soames nearly closed his little eyes in his effort to comprehend. "A draft in her favor," continued the Greek, "has been purchased by Mr.
Whilst these thoughts were passing in the pursuer's mind, Gianapolis, lighting a cigarette, had thrown himself back in a corner of the cab and was mentally reviewing the events of the evening that is, those events which were associated with Helen Cumberly. He was disappointed but hopeful: at any rate he had suffered no definite repulse.
"Not at all," muttered Soames, a trifle unsteadily; "it seems all right" the cocktails were beginning to speak now, and his voice was a duet "simply perfectly all right all square." "Good!" said Mr. Gianapolis with his radiant smile; and the gaze of his left eye, crossing that of its neighbor, observed the entrance of a stranger into the bar. He drew his stool closer and lowered his voice: "Mrs.
Having rung up East 18642 and made an appointment with Gianapolis in regard to some letters for Mrs. Leroux, he had been surprised, on reaching the corner of Victoria Street, to find that Gianapolis was not there! He glanced up at the face of Big Ben. Yes for the first time during their business acquaintance, Mr. Gianapolis was late!
"So you must be off yes? I hear you say it; I asking you who to meet?" "Why do you speak in English?" said Gianapolis with a faint irritation. "Let us talk..." She struck him lightly on the face with her fan; but he clenched his teeth and suppressed an ugly exclamation. "Who was it?" she asked, musically, "that say to me, 'to hear you speaking English like rippling water'?"
At the end of a drive of some twenty-five minutes or less, the car stopped the door was opened, and the radiant Gianapolis extended both hands to the occupant. "My dear M. Gaston!" he cried, "how glad I am to see you looking so well! Hand me your bag, I beg of you!" M. Max placed the bag in the extended hand of Gianapolis, and leapt out upon the pavement.
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