"What sort of den?" inquired Mr. Rejzek.
"A Karburator den, sir. They had set up a tiny Karburator down there out of an old pre-war motor. A very low crowd has been going down there and holding orgies."
"What kind of orgies do you mean?"
"Oh, disorderly behaviour. They pray and sing and have visions and prophesy and perform miracles, and all that sort of business."
"And isn't that allowed?"
"No, it's forbidden by the police. You see, it's something like those dens where they smoke opium. We found one of them in the Old Town. We've routed out seven of these Karburator caverns already. An awful gang used to collect there: vagrants, loose women, and other doubtful characters. That's why it's forbidden. It's a breach of the peace."
"And are there many haunts of this kind?"
"Not now. I think this one was the last of the Karburators."
