And now Ralph Johnson, known as the American, returns again to the new part of Kowloon, to Manneret's apartment. He will try his luck again, since there is no one else, in the entire territory of the concession, capable of furnishing him with the sum he needs to buy back Lauren. He will use any means to convince the millionaire, if need be. Without thinking of taking the elevator, he walks up the seven flights. The door of the apartment is ajar, the apartment door is open, despite the late hour, the apartment door is closed--what does it matter?--and Manneret himself comes to open it; or else it is a Chinese servant girl or a sleepy young Eurasian girl whom the bell, whom the insistent electric buzzer, whom the thumps of fists against the door have finally roused from her bed. What does all that matter? What does it matter? Edouard Manneret has not yet gone to bed, in any case. He never goes to bed. He sleeps fully dressed in his rocking chair. He hasn't managed to sleep in a long time, the strongest soporifics having ceased to have the slightest effect on him. He is sound asleep in his bed, but Johnson insists that he be wakened, he waits for him in the living room, he shoves aside the terrified servants and enters the bedroom by force; all this comes to the same thing. Manneret first takes Johnson for his son, he takes him for Georges Marcat or Marchant, he takes him for Mr. Chang, he takes him for Sir Ralph, he takes him for King Boris. It all comes down to the same thing, since ultimately he refuses. The American insists. The American threatens. The American begs. Edouard Manneret refuses. Then the American calmly takes his revolver out of the inside right (or left?) picket, of his tuxedo, that revolver which he had removed a while ago (when?) from the wardrobe or the chest in his hotel room, between the starched, white, carefully pressed shirts....