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The Mystery of the Four Fingers
Author of "THE MIDNIGHT GUEST," "THE CRIMSON BLIND," Etc., Etc.
1908
Considering it was nearly the height of the London winter season, theGreat Empire Hotel was not unusually crowded. This might perhaps havebeen owing to the fact that two or three of the finest suites of rooms inthe building had been engaged by Mark Fenwick, who was popularly supposedto be the last thing in the way of American multi-millionaires. No oneknew precisely who Fenwick was, or how he had made his money; but duringthe last few months his name had bulked largely in the financial Pressand the daily periodicals of a sensational character. So far, the man hadhardly been seen, it being understood that he was suffering from a chill,contracted on his voyage to Europe. Up to the present moment he had takenall his meals in his rooms, but it was whispered now that the great manwas coming down to dinner. There was quite a flutter of excitement in theVenetian dining-room about eight o'clock.
The beautifully decorated saloon had a sprinkling of well-dressed menand women already dining decorously there. Everything was decorous aboutthe Great Empire Hotel. No thought had been spared in the effort to keepthe place quiet and select. The carpets were extra thick, and the waitersmore than usually soft-footed. On the whole, it was a restful place,though, perhaps, the decorative scheme of its lighting erred just atrifle on the side of the sombre. Still, flowers and ferns were soft andfeathery. The band played just loudly enough to stimulate conversationinstead of drowning it. At one of the little tables near the door two menwere dining. One had the alertness and vigor which bespeaks the dwellerin towns. He was neatly groomed, with just the slight suspicion of thedandy in his dress, though it was obvious at the merest glance that hewas a gentleman. His short, sleek hair gave to his head a certainsuggestion