Er--Mr.
Tarling is--er--a detective." "Indeed, sir ?" Milburgh bent a deferential head in the direction of Tarling, and the detective, watching for some change in colour, some twist of face--any of those signs which had so often betrayed to him the convicted wrongdoer--looked in vain.
"A dangerous man," he thought.
He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see what impression the man had made upon Ling Chu.

To the ordinary eye Ling Chu remained an impassive observer.

But Tarling saw that faint curl of lip, an almost imperceptible twitch of the nostrils, which invariably showed on the face of his attendant when he "smelt" a criminal.
"Mr.Tarling is a detective," repeated Lyne.

"He is a gentleman I heard about when I was in China--you know I was in China for three months, when I made my tour round the world ?" he asked Tarling.
Tarling nodded.
"Oh yes, I know," he said.

"You stayed at the Bund Hotel.