CHAPTER VIII.
AN INTERRUPTED SYMPOSIUM "Have a cigarette," said Grant to Furneaux, when the blinds were drawn, a lamp lighted, and the sherry dispensed.
"Thank you." The self-invited guest took one.

He sniffed it, broke the paper wrapping, and crumbled some of the tobacco between finger and thumb.
"Ah, those Greeks!" he said sadly.

"They simply can't go straight.

This brand of Turk used to be made of a tobacco grown on a slope above Salonica.

A strip of sun-baked soil built up a reputation which is now being bartered for filthy lucre by the use of Egyptian 'fillings.'" "You're a connoisseur, Mr.Hawknose--try these," said Hart, proffering a case, from which the detective drew a cigarette, throwing the other one aside.
"Why 'Hawknose' ?" he inquired.
"A blend.