Explore "The Lost Million" by William Le Queux on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Ignorant of the fate of my friends, I was unceremoniously bundled into a fiacre and driven to the police bureau, where for nearly three hours I was closely questioned regarding my own identity and my knowledge of Harvey Shaw.
Aix-les-Bains being a gambling centre, it attracts half the _escrocs_ in Europe; hence, stationed here and there are several of the smartest and shrewdest police officials which France possesses. At the hands of Victor Tramu and two of his colleagues I was subjected to the closest interrogation in a small bare room with threadbare carpet and walls painted dark green, the headquarters of the Surete in that district. The population of Aix in summer is much the same as that of Monte Carlo in winter -- a heterogeneous, cosmopolitan collection of wealthy pigeons and hawks of both sexes and all nationalities.