“I feel for you,” declared Gianapolis, warmly; “I, too, have worshiped at the shrine; and although I cannot promise that the London establishment to which I shall introduce you is comparable with that over which Madame Jean formerly presided”... “Formerly?” exclaimed M. Gaston, with lifted eyebrows. “You do not tell me”... “My friend,” said Gianapolis, “in Europe we are less enlightened upon certain matters than in Smyrna, in Constantinople--in Cairo. The impertinent police have closed the establishment in the Rue St. Claude!” “Ah!” exclaimed M. Gaston, striking his brow, “misery! I shall return to Paris, then, only to die?” “I would suggest, monsieur,” said Gianapolis, tapping him confidentially upon the breast, “that you periodically visit London in future. The journey is a short one, and already, I am happy to say, the London establishment (conducted by Mr. Ho-Pin of Canton--a most accomplished gentleman, and a graduate of London)--enjoys the patronage of several distinguished citizens of Paris, of Brussels, of Vienna, and elsewhere.” “You offer me life!” declared M. Gaston, gratefully. “The commoner establishments, for the convenience of sailors and others of that class, at Dieppe, Calais,”--he shrugged his shoulders, comprehensively--“are impossible as resorts. In catering for the true devotees--for those who, unlike De Quincey, plunge and do not dabble--for those who seek to explore the ultimate regions of poppyland, for those who have learnt the mystery from the real masters in Asia and not in Europe--the enterprise conducted by Madame Jean supplied a want long and bitterly experienced. I rejoice to know that London has not been neglected”... “My dear friend!” cried Gianapolis enthusiastically, “no important city has been neglected! A high priest of the cult has arisen, and from a parent lodge in Pekin he has extended his offices to kindred lodges in most of the capitals of Europe and Asia; he has not neglected the Near East, and America owes him a national debt of gratitude.” “Ah! the great man!” murmured M. Gaston, with closed eyes. “As an old habitue of the Rue St. Claude, I divine that you refer to Mr. King?” “Beyond doubt,” whispered Gianapolis, imparting a quality of awe to his voice. “From you, my friend, I will have no secrets; but”--he glanced about him crookedly, and lowered his voice to an impressive whisper--“the police, as you are aware”... “Curse their interference!” said M. Gaston. “Curse it indeed; but the police persist in believing, or in pretending to believe, that any establishment patronized by lovers of the magic resin must necessarily be a resort of criminals.” “Pah!”