"We close at about this time, sir," the man interrupted me, speaking
in the emotionless, monotonous voice which I had noted before.
I replaced upon the glass counter a little Sekhet boat, carved in wood
and highly coloured, and glanced up with a start. Truly my methods
were amateurish; I had learnt nothing; I was unlikely to learn
anything. I wondered how Nayland Smith would have conducted such an
inquiry, and I racked my brains for some means of penetrating into the
recesses of the establishment. Indeed I had been seeking such a plan
for the past half an hour, but my mind had proved incapable of
suggesting one.
Why I did not admit failure I cannot imagine, but, instead, I began to
tax my brains anew for some means of gaining further time; and, as I
looked about the place, the shopman very patiently awaiting my
departure, I observed an open case at the back of the counter. The
three lower shelves were empty, but upon the fourth shelf squatted a
silver Buddha.
"I should like to examine the silver image yonder," I said; "what
price are you asking for it?"
"It is not for sale, sir," replied the man, with a greater show of
animation than he had yet exhibited.
"Not for sale!" I said, my eyes ever seeking the curtained doorway;
"how's that?"
"It is sold."
"Well, even so, there can be no objection to my examining it?"
"It is not for sale, sir."
Such a rebuff from a tradesman would have been more than sufficient to
call for a sharp retort at any other time, but now it excited the
strangest suspicions.
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