Mrs. Irvin started, and her eyes turned instantly in the direction of
the greenly draped wall before her. Her pupils had grown suddenly
dilated, and she clenched her hands tightly.

The light above her head went out.

Now that the moment was come to which she had looked forward with
mingled hope and terror, long pent-up emotion threatened to overcome
her, and she trembled wildly.

Out of the darkness dawned a vague light and in it a shape seemed to
take form. As the light increased the effect was as though part of the
wall had become transparent so as to reveal the interior of an inner
room where a figure was seated in a massive ebony chair. The figure
was that of an oriental, richly robed and wearing a white turban. His
long slim hands, of the color of old ivory, rested upon the arms of
the chair, and on the first finger of the right hand gleamed a big
talismanic ring. The face of the seated man was lowered, but from
under heavy brows his abnormally large eyes regarded her fixedly.

So dim the light remained that it was impossible to discern the
details with anything like clearness, but that the clean-shaven face
of the man with those wonderful eyes was strikingly and intellectually
handsome there could be no doubt.

This was Kazmah, "the dream reader," and although Mrs. Irvin had seen
him before, his statuesque repose and the weirdness of his unfaltering
gaze thrilled her uncannily.