The Insidious Dr. Fu-Manchu

I

“A gentleman to see you, Doctor.”

From across the common a clock sounded the half-hour.

“Ten-thirty!” I said. “A late visitor. Show him up, if you please.”

I pushed my writing aside and tilted the lampshade, as footsteps sounded on the landing. The next moment I had jumped to my feet, for a tall, lean man, with his square-cut, clean-shaven face sunbaked to the hue of coffee, entered and extended both hands, with a cry:

“Good old Petrie! Didn’t expect me, I’ll swear!”