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brewing. I put my foot down; and though I almost had to use main force to get Neuburg to go home, 
I had my way. I was still talking to my own friend at half-past two, when I heard the click of the 
garden gate and steps on the path. The house door opened and shut with sinister softness. There 
there was absolute silence. 
A few minutes later there was a frightened scream from Mrs. Gnaggs. I threw on a dressing gown 
and went out. She was standing in a kimono on  
1. WEH Note: This is a typical misunderstanding (by Crowley and the 
Engineer, not the Chinese contractor!). China has had standards of 
weights, materials and money for a very long time. These standards were 
set by imperial edict, and when originally propagated had penalties for 
violation up to and including death by torture. In plain words, when the 
Engineer demanded a change from the official standard, he coerced a 
violation of the law. The contractor attempted to explain by saying that 
the size of the bricks was a matter of ancient imperial law = "from the 
Jade Emperor, or spirit of the past Emperors, in Heaven". 
2. WEH Note: Possibly for the same reasons as the Chinese brick of the 
previous note. Most countries have very different laws governing the sales 
and distribution of periodicals over books. For example, in the USA a 
periodical is not subject to sales tax, has a different postal rate and has 
provisions of constitutional protection quite different from those of a 
book. Very likely this became a question of what laws to follow, not one 
of social confusion but rather conflicting statute.  
{606} 
the landing with a candle, in hysterics, leaning over the balustrade and calling to know who was 
there. I said, "It is only some beastly burglar," took the candle and went down. No one in the hall. In 
the dining-room, in pitch darkness, Gnaggs was standing, trembling, as white as a fish's belly. I lit 
up, called upstairs that all was well, and told him he had no business to frighten his wife. He 
seemed incapable of speech. I got him a drink and he gradually pulled himself together. We started 
to smoke and he told me his story. 
He had left his bicycle on the kerb some fifty yards from the entrance to the house where his first 
wife lived and waited in the shadow for her lover to come out. The man appeared about one 
o'clock. Gnaggs instantly fell on him, left him for dead on the pavement, sprinted to his machine 
and raced home. I congratulated him on his resourcefulness in making life interesting and got him to 
go to bed. He was a good deal scared about the police, in case he had killed the man. We watched 
the papers anxiously. 
The next day a paragraph appeared. 
Mysterious midnight assault near Hyde Part. Dr. Herpes-Zoster1, a prominent physician of Clyster 
Street, was assaulted brutally, and battered by a thug at the door of 606 Mercury Mansions, Iodine 
Street, Hyde Park, about one o'clock this morning. He was discovered unconscious by the policemen 
on the beat and taken to Knocks Hospital, where he was found to be suffering from numerous 
contusions and serious internal injuries. He had not been robbed and can assign no motive for the 
attack, as he is not aware that he has any enemies. He had been spending a quiet evening with 
some old friends. Professor and Mrs. Phthisis. 
Once more I congratulated Gnaggs and this time quite sincerely. It was certainly quite improbable 
that the police would get on his trail, as his victim was an utter stranger, as much to his first wife 
as to himself! 
I found this sort of thing added a spice to life. Gnaggs could be relied upon to take one out of the 
rut every few minutes. Some weeks later I went to spend the weekend with him. I was worn out 
with worry and work and had caught a bad chill. He was out when I got to the house. Mrs. Gnaggs