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Leroux, Gaston, 1868-1927

"Mystery of the Yellow Room"


When we were close to him, he deigned to see us and asked us, in a
tone anything but engaging, whether we wanted anything. He was, no
doubt, the not very amiable landlord of this charming dwelling-place.
As we expressed a hope that he would be good enough to furnish us
with a breakfast, he assured us that he had no provisions, regarding
us, as he said this, with a look that was unmistakably suspicious.
"You may take us in," Rouletabille said to him, "we are not
policemen."
"I'm not afraid of the police--I'm not afraid of anyone!" replied
the man.
I had made my friend understand by a sign that we should do better
not to insist; but, being determined to enter the inn, he slipped
by the man on the doorstep and was in the common room.
"Come on," he said, "it is very comfortable here."
A good fire was blazing in the chimney, and we held our hands to
the warmth it sent out; it was a morning in which the approach of
winter was unmistakable. The room was a tolerably large one,
furnished with two heavy tables, some stools, a counter decorated
with rows of bottles of syrup and alcohol.


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