es and gave him an order which sounded to
his guests like a loose board being ripped forcibly from a nailed-up
box. Mr. Spokesly, sitting immediately opposite this monster of
hospitality, was not favourably impressed. Mr. Dainopoulos rarely
impressed people favourably at first. The long emaciated face had the
texture of the uppers of an old buckskin shoe. The bloodshot brown eyes
in their reddened sockets seemed in danger of falling into the great
pouches of loose skin below them. The mouth, full of sharp yellow teeth
and open as though about to yawn, had been slit back to the salience of
the jaw at some time and had been sewn up in a sketchy fashion indicated
by a white zig-zag scar like a flash of lightning. As he talked this
scar worked with disconcerting vivacity. Mr. Spokesly turned with relief
to the whiskies and sodas which appeared, borne by the industrious
Herakles.

"And how is business?" asked Mr. Bates, having lifted his glass and set
it down empty. Beyond three or four sherries and bitters and a glass of
gin and vermouth, before coming ashore, he had drunk nothing all day. He
was thirsty. "And how is business?"

A simple question. And yet Mr. Dainopoulos did not render a simple
answer. He regarded Mr. Bates for a moment and then turned his head
cautiously to right and left. Preserving an impressive silence he caught
Mr. Spokesly's eyes and smiled, taking a suck at his _narghileh_. It was
at this juncture that two French naval officers, seated at a distant
table and smoking cigarettes in long ivory holders (to keep the smoke
from their beards), exchanged opinions upon the folly of their British
allies in permitting the officers of ships to come ashore in civilian
attire.

"You are quite sure, of course, that they _are_ officers of a
transport?" said the elder, observing with attention.

"Quite, my commandant. From the _Tanganyika_, arrived to-day. The little
one I know well. The other I observed upon the forecastle as she
anchored."

"But what are they doing in company with _him_?"

The lieutenant raised his shoulders.

"I imagine, my commandant, that they do a little business in hashish.
But in any case it is not what you imagine. The English do not spy."

"But Dainopoulos may use them, eh?"

"Impossible, my commandant. You do not know them. I do. As you are
aware, I was in the Credit Lyonnais in Lombard Street. If Mr.
Dainopoulos attempted to enlist their services they would batter his
head in