For a fraction of a second he wished he had never bought the Grand Babylon.
A quarter of an hour later Prince Aribert, Theodore Racksole, a doctor, and an inspector of police were in the Prince's reception-room.

They had just come from an ante-chamber, in which lay the mortal remains of Reginald Dimmock.
'Well ?' said Racksole, glancing at the doctor.
The doctor was a big, boyish-looking man, with keen, quizzical eyes.
'It is not heart disease,' said the doctor.
'Not heart disease ?' 'No.' 'Then what is it ?' asked the Prince.
'I may be able to answer that question after the post-mortem,' said the doctor.

'I certainly can't answer it now.

The symptoms are unusual to a degree.' The inspector of police began to write in a note-book..