The Crystal Claw
9781465686701
213 pages
Library of Alexandria
Overview
“Yes, an extremely pretty girl,” remarked old Dr. Feng, bending towards me and speaking softly across thetable-à-deux at which we were dining at the Kürhaus hotel at Mürren, high-up in the snow-clad Alps. “A honeymooning couple, no doubt,” he went on—“nice place this for a honeymoon!” and the white-haired old Chinese who—most unusual in one of his race, had a long white beard—smiled as he poured out a tiny glass of white curaçao, the only form of alcohol I ever saw him indulge in. I glanced across in the direction he indicated and saw seated in a corner, a pretty dark-haired grey-eyed girl of twenty. She wore a flame-colored dance-frock, and was laughing happily as she chatted with a good-looking young man, perhaps six years or so her senior. The young fellow was smart and distinguished-looking and the girl was very handsome, with irregular features, and singularly expressive eyes, but hers was a nervous, restless physiognomy that rather chilled one at first sight. The expression in both their faces told the truth quite clearly. They were, indeed, newly wed, and they had that evening arrived on the funicular railway from Lauterbrunnen, in the valley below, by the service which had left Victoria station the previous afternoon. “Yes, a very handsome pair,” I agreed. “I wonder who they are?” “Don’t inquire. When you marry, Yelverton, you won’t like people to be inquisitive. All newly-married people are super-sensitive, you know,” declared my companion. Dr. Feng Tsu’tong, despite his seventy years, did not look a day more than sixty. Much above the common height for a Chinese he possessed features of the type which seldom show many signs of advancing age. Erect and virile he carried himself like a much younger man and of his activity and endurance I had had ample proof, for, in our frequent long tramps and ski expeditions across the snow, he had shown me more than once that his muscles were equal to my own, despite the great disparity in our ages. He was a highly-cultured and widely read man. I imagined when I first met him, as I found to be the case when I knew him better, that he must have left China many years before, for he spoke perfect English, though with a slight American accent. His quaint philosophy had made an instant appeal to me. Though he was much older than I, his mental outlook was surprisingly young and we had become constant companions and very firm friends in quite a short time. I have seldom met a man in whom I felt such complete confidence and sympathy as in this old Chinese doctor. We spent much time together, often taking long expeditions afoot or on ski or sometimes as partners in a game of curling of which he was passionately fond.
