‘And this is my assistant, George Fox.’ Quenten Vamberry parted from the professor’s embrace and wrung George Fox’s hand between his own. ‘Damnably fine to meet you, George,’ he said. ‘And me you, sir, yes.’ George found himself led into a comfortable room that smelled of hops and tobacco smoke. Lamps fuelled by whale oil with dark heavy shades hung in wall sconces and dropped pools of light upon scrubbed oaken tables. The hubbub of merry conversation did not cease as George entered this room, no one looked up at him, no one paid him any mind. ‘Porter?’ asked Quenten of George and the professor. ‘Porter and supper, I’m thinking.’ ‘Yes indeed, indeed.’ Professor Coffin grinned a mighty grin. He settled himself down into a chair at an empty table and beckoned George to do the very same. George sat himself down, took off his bowler, diddled its brim with his fingers. His eyes did cautious wanderings about the clientele. They were indeed most very special people. A dwarf, his face tattooed after the fashion of the Maori, played at chess with a princely personage from the Indian subcontinent.
What do You think about The Japanese Devil Fish Girl?
