Fourteen HE MEETING OF THE SEVEN DIALS

It would be as well to pass over the sufferings of the next four hours asquickly as possible. Bundle found her position extremely cramped¹. Shehad judged that the meeting, if meeting there was to be, would take placeat a time when the club was in full swing—somewhere probably betweenthe hours of midnight and two a.m.
She was just deciding that it must be at least six o’clock in the morningwhen a welcome sound come to her ears, the sound of the unlocking of adoor.
In another minute the electric light was switched on. The hum of voices,which had come to her for a minute or two, rather like the far-off roar ofsea waves, ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and Bundle heard thesound of a bolt being shot. Clearly someone had come in from the gamingroom next door, and she paid tribute to the thoroughness with which thecommunicating door had been rendered soundproof.
In another minute the intruder came into her line of vision—a line ofvision that was necessarily somewhat incomplete but which yet answeredits purpose. A tall man, broad-shouldered and powerful looking, with along black beard, Bundle remembered having seen him sitting at one ofthe baccarat tables on the preceding night.
This, then, was Alfred’s mysterious Russian gentleman, the proprietor² ofthe club, the sinister³ Mr. Mosgorovsky. Bundle’s heart beat faster with ex-citement. So little did she resemble her father that at this minute she fairlygloried in the extreme discomfort⁴ of her position.
The Russian remained for some minutes standing⁵ by the table, strokinghis beard. Then he drew a watch from his pocket and glanced at the time.
Nodding his head as though satisfied, he again thrust his hand into hispocket and, pulling out something that Bundle could not see, he moved outof the line of vision.
When he reappeared she could hardly help giving a gasp⁶ of surprise.
His face was now covered by a mask—but hardly a mask in the conven-tional sense. It was not shaped to the face. It was a

分享到：