Explore "Trent's Last Case" by E.C. Bentley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"What was that you said about our having an appointment at half-past seven? " asked Mr. Cupples as the two came out of the great gateway of the pile of flats. "Have we such an appointment?"
"Certainly we have," replied Trent. "You are dining with me. Only one thing can properly celebrate this occasion, and that is a dinner for which I pay. No, no! I asked you first. I have got right down to the bottom of a case that must be unique -- a case that has troubled even my mind for over a year -- and if that isn't a good reason for standing a dinner, I don't know what is. Cupples, we will not go to my club. This is to be a festival, and to be seen in a London club in a state of pleasurable emotion is more than enough to shatter any man's career. Besides that, the dinner there is always the same, or, at least, they always make it taste the same, I know not how. The eternal dinner at my club hath bored millions of members like me, and shall bore; but tonight let the feast be spread in vain, so far as we are concerned. We will not go where the satraps throng the hall. We will go to Sheppard's."