Nahoum was standing in a waiting and respectful attitude as she entered.
He advanced towards her and bowed low, but stopped dumfounded, as he saw
who she was. Presently he recovered himself; but he offered no further
greeting than to place a chair for her where her face was in the shadow
and his in the light--time of crisis as it was, she noticed this and
marvelled at him. His face was as she had seen it those years ago. It
showed no change whatever. The eyes looked at her calmly, openly, with no
ulterior thought behind, as it might seem. The high, smooth forehead, the
full but firm lips, the brown, well-groomed beard, were all indicative of
a nature benevolent and refined. Where did the duplicity lie? Her mind
answered its own question on the instant; it lay in the brain and the
tongue. Both were masterly weapons, an armament so complete that it
controlled the face and eyes and outward man into a fair semblance of
honesty. The tongue--she remembered its insinuating and adroit power, and
how it had deceived the man she had come to try and save.
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