Manchurian Books

Behind him was a further partition and
a door inscribed "ABSOLUTELY PRIVATE--NO ADMISSION," thereon. This
partition was of wood painted the universal chocolate, up to about eight
feet from the ground, and then of glass. Through the glass I saw dimly
a crowded suggestion of crucibles and glass retorts, and--by
Jove!--yes!--the dear old Wimblehurst air-pump still! It gave me quite
a little thrill--that air-pump! And beside it was the electrical
machine--but something--some serious trouble--had happened to that. All
these were evidently placed on a shelf just at the level to show.
"Come right into the sanctum," said my uncle, after he had finished
something about "esteemed consideration," and whisked me through the
door into a room that quite amazingly failed to verify the promise of
that apparatus. It was papered with dingy wall-paper that had peeled in
places; it contained a fireplace, an easy-chair with a cushion, a table
on which stood two or three big bottles, a number of cigar-boxes on
the mantel, whisky Tantalus and a row of soda syphons.


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