10: The Return
Weird Tales Apr 1927
"H-M-M! Might spend a night in many worse places than this!" said Arnold Drysdale to himself, as his host disappeared; leaving him alone in the great vaulted room, lit by the dancing flicker of a log-fire.
The portraits on the paneled walls were veiled by the shadowy darkness, but beyond the circle of radiance within which Drysdale sat could be seen the dim outline of the Bechstein grand, the huddle of chairs at the far end of the music room, the pale glimmer of flowers in tall vases, and the clouded splendor of the gold brocade curtains drawn across the windows.
"Yes! It's a very easy way of earning five pounds!" went on Drysdale reflectively, lounging back in his chair and lighting a cigarette. "And what's more— I believe it's done the trick with M
