clerk. "Why does not Mr. Harrison come himself?" he was on the
point of asking, but amazement at the clerk's appearance took
away his breath. He was a shriveled little object, slight, bony,
crooked and hideous, with a monstrous head and round eyes, a bald
skull, a flat nose, a mouth from ear to ear, and a little jutting
paunch that looked like a sack.

"I bring the Marquis d'Aubremel the monies he is expecting," said
the man, and his voice, shrill and silvery, like a musical box or
the bell of a clock, impressed Felix painfully. The voice grated
on the nerves. "I have drawn a receipt in regular form," said
Felix, extending his hand. But the solicitor's clerk leaned his
back against the door, without stirring a step. "Well, sir,"
Felix exclaimed with a convulsive effort. The man approached
slowly, scarcely moving his feet, as if sliding across the floor.
His right hand was buried in his coat pocket; he held his head
bent down, and his lips moved inaudibly. At last he pulled from
his pocket a large bundle of banknotes, bills and papers, drew
near the window, and began to count them carefully.

Felix was then struck by a strange phenomenon that might well
inspire undefined terror. Standing directly in front of the
window, the clerk's figure cast no shadow, though the sun's rays
fell full upon it, and through his human body, translucent as
rock crystal, Felix plainly saw the houses across the street.
Then his eyes seemed to be suddenly unsealed. The clerk's black
coat took colors, blue, green, and scarlet; it lengthened out
into the folds of a robe, and blazed with the dazzling image of
the fire-dragon, the son of Buddha; a lock of stiff grayish hair
sprouted like a short tuft out of his yellowish skull; his round