The Crime Club
cowed by the swiftness with which Westerham had wrested his authority from him and practically fought his way out of Limehouse.

In the little sitting-room, Westerham with great precision poured out a couple of whisky-and-sodas and handed Melun a cigar.

“You will not understand me the better by sulking or skulking,” he said. “I would suggest to you that even if you are not one you had better try to be a man.”

Melun winced, and was about to reply angrily, when Westerham again cut him short.

“Listen to me,” he said sharply. “I realise that while I am associated with you for my own ends I shall have to close my eyes to a great many matters not exactly permitted by the law of this country. That contingency, however, I was from the first prepared to face. There are, however, certain things which you had better at once understand I do not permit.”

“You do not permit!” Melun almost yelled.

“That I do not permit,” repeated Westerham, coldly. “And one of them is such a scene as I have witnessed to-night.”

His sea-green eyes were now blazing, and his mouth was shut like a trap.

“I have been introduced as your friend,” he continued,[Pg 66] “and therefore I propose to visit Limehouse whensoever I choose.”

[Pg 66]

“But you cannot,” cried Melun.

“Oh, yes, my dear man, but I can, and, what is more, I mean to. You had better leave that to me. I already see that I am more qualified to deal with those ruffians down yonder than you are. I am not the least alarmed by their blustering, however much you may be.

“And so,” he went on, “I would have you understand clearly and without any mistake that I will have no women fetched into that den of iniquity on any pretext whatsoever. You understand me?”

Melun nodded feebly. He was completely crushed and beaten.

“Henceforward, too,” Westerham continued, “I am going to adopt a different attitude towards you. Once, I confess, I had a few uneasy feelings that, with what you are pleased to call your ‘endless resources,’ you might do me some injury. A good many people disappear in London, and I fancied for a little while I might become one of the lost ones, but, 
 Prev. P 44/238 next 
Back Top
Privacy Statement Terms of Service Contact