He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness. She treaded down the hall swiftly but stopped abruptly when she heard a voice in back of her. “Perhaps for me,” she added, with a sudden wistful look out of the bare high window, “a night of beginnings. 230 Rhea sprang, teeth flashing. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter.
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