"
For a long time she remained there, listening for any sound which
should disperse the silence. She thought of her husband, of the
sweet security of her home, of the things which she had forfeited
because of this mad quest of adventure. And presently a key
grated in a lock.
Lady Pat started to her feet with a wild, swift action which must
have reminded a beholder of a startled gazelle. The drapery
masking the door which she had first investigated was drawn
aside. A man entered and dropped the curtain behind him.
Exactly what she had expected she could not have defined, but the
presence of this perfect stranger was a complete surprise. The
man, who wore embroidered slippers and a sort of long blue robe,
stood there regarding her with an expression which, even in her
frantic condition, she found to be puzzling. He had long, untidy
gray hair brushed back from his low brow; eyes strangely like the
eyes of Lou Chada, except that they were more heavy-lidded; but
his skin was as yellow as a guinea, and his gaunt, cleanshaven
face was the face of an Oriental.
The slender hands, too, which he held clasped before him, were
yellow, and possessed a curiously arresting quality. Pat
imagined them clasped about her white throat, and her very soul
seemed to shrink from the man who stood there looking at her with
those long, magnetic, inscrutable eyes.
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