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Updated: May 25, 2025
Of her face, which had been notable for a sort of devilish beauty, I cannot write; it was the awful face of one who had did from strangulation. Beside her, with a Malay krîs in his heart a little, jeweled weapon that I had often seen in Zarmi's hand sprawled the obese Greek, Samarkan, a member of the Si-Fan group and sometime manager of a great London hotel!
I was wild with excitement now, and fearful lest the cab ahead should have disappeared; but fortune seemingly was with me for once, and I was not twenty yards behind when Zarmi's cab turned the first corner ahead. Through the gloomy street, which appeared to be populated solely by streaming umbrellas, we went. I could scarcely keep my seat; every nerve in my body seemed to be dancing twitching.
Even as I set the glass down I realized, too late, that it was the first drink I had ever permitted to pass my lips within an abode of Dr. Fu-Manchu.... I started to my feet. "Frazer!" I muttered "we've been drugged! we ..." "You sit down," came Zarmi's husky voice, and I felt her hands upon my breast, pushing me back into my seat. "You very tired ... you go to sleep...." "Petrie! Dr. Petrie!"
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