Explore "A Mediterranean Mystery" by Fred E. Wynne on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was somehow a relief to me to find Brogden in a suit of civilian linen. His exotic uniform, and the tarboosh which etiquette compelled him to keep on his head throughout the evening, had increased his effect of a figure in a bad dream. Now I could realise him as my old friend -- and keep him at arm's length.
I answered his anxious enquiries by assuring him I was well. But I intended, however, to remain on guard over the abomination hidden in my room, and I made use of my supposed indisposition as an excuse for not leaving the hotel.