Achmed Abdullah

“ But the play was a success.
“Yes, old dear,” said Gwendolyn de Vere to The Honorable Tollemache Wade, reclining on a couch in her bedroom of the Adelphi Apartments, which was typical of her mind and taste—a hectic rubbish and flummery of make-believe art. “They're turning them away night after night.”
“Corkin', what?”
“Corkin'—rather! But not for me! I haven't even a speakin' bit. And the show has positively made Nell Grosvenor. You know yourself she can't dance, and she can't sing, and—her figure—my word! But there you are, Tollie old chap. She is—made! ”

“ But—“the blade was an integral part of me, don't you see?” he would add. “I couldn't have left without it. Of course not. That bit of steel had stuck by me.”
He did not have to wait long. For, a minute later, the door opened again, and this time the Hindu salaamed deeply, and there was something almost like awe in his opaque eyes, and respect in his voice as he bade the other enter.
“Thy people are sick with longing for thee, saheb!” he said in purring Persian. “Careful, Protector of the Pitiful! The steps are slippery!” ”

“ Preserved Higgins, “I'll find out what I can about that Abderrahman Yahiah Khan—governor of the western marches of Tamerlanistan, didn't you say?”
“Yes, Baron.”
“All right. I have a friend in Moscow, a high official in the Bureau for Pan-Russian Central-Asian Propaganda. I shall send him a wire, and he will get into communication with you.”
“Thanks, my lad, and don't you be afraid—it 'as nothing to do with politics. I ain't doin' any dirty work for England. It's just plain business.”
“That's all right, Mr. Higgins.” The Russian waved a white, excessively well-kept hand. ”

“ All right, m'boy. Buy everything you want. Charge it up to me. We leave to-morrow via Paris, Berlin, and Moscow, then to Orenburg, and over the Russian military r'ylw'y to Bokhara, Central Asia.”
“I haven't a passport,” said Tollemache Wade, “and I rather doubt if, with this scandal of mine, bankruptcy and drummin' out of the army for conduct unbecomin' and old Gwen givin' interviews to the reporters and all that, you know, the foreign office will give me one.” ”

“ You know how it is in the profession. A girl hasn't got a chance unless she slips something to the manager—and ...”
“But, my dear!” expostulated Tollemache. “I haven't a red, you know, and I'm head-over-heels in debts, and ...” ”

“ And 'ere Babu Bansi writes me that the princess, too, is on 'er w'y to Calcutta, doubtless to meet 'Ector and that there plurry Yank.”
“But,” the sandy-haired gentleman had interrupted, “it seems to me the Babu should have ...”
“Should 'ave nothink!” Mr. Higgins was fair enough. “'E did 'is part. Cybled me as soon as the old Ameer 'ad kicked the bucket and told me wot 'e'd found out about ... you know. 'Ere”—opening the small, plump safe and taking from amongst his private files the wire which Bansi had sent him the day of the Ameer's funeral, addressed to “Gloops.” ”

“ The sandy-haired gentleman had smoked a woodbine and listened, torn between awe and envy.
“Diddled me, 'e did, that there—crimson Ali Yusuf Khan!” the millionaire had exclaimed, kicking himself viciously in the shin. “Diddled me, by ——, the —— Bilked me, by —— Kept me 'ere in London, on purpose, for 'is ruddy trial wot's comin' orf in the September assizes so's to keep me aw'y from Calcutta where 'Ector Wade is rubbin' noses with the Hemperor of Dollars and Cents. Yes! ”

“ By the w'y, look up Babu Bansi's old correspondence and see wot the blighter's nyme is—you know, the governor of the western marches of Tamerlanistan. Phone me, and then go straight to Pollocks, on Bond Street, and get me a 'ole lot of them jewels Oriental potentytes likes—off-color diamonds and moonstones and opals and things. Pollocks will know. 'Ave 'em charge it up to me and damn the expense. Then, to-morrow early, go to the Smith & Union Bank ... ”