Read "Murder at Monte Carlo" by E. Phillips Oppenheim online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Somewhere about the time when the little council of men had decided upon the treatment to be meted out to Roger, should he be found haunting the premises of the Hôtel du Soleil at an unpropitious moment, that young man, in mackintosh and cap, pushed open the door of the bar and entered, a little breathless from his struggle with the wind. His old acquaintance, Sam, leaned over the counter and watched his approach without enthusiasm. The welcoming smile of his class was absent from his lips, his light-coloured eyebrows were contracted in a frown, his manner was furtive, his husky tone charged with warning.
"I'm telling you, Mr. Sloane," he said earnestly, "I don't want to serve you--and that's straight. I wanted to tell you so when you called in the other day, but I thought that maybe it was an accident and I shouldn't see you again. You may have popped in by accident this evening, sure. Very well, then, pop off again. The weather isn't going to be any better and a drink here won't do you any good."