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She turned her eyes from the bed and its somewhat sorrowful burden the handsome head, the broad, though angular, shoulders, the face, immobile and mask-like, with closed eyelids and unsmiling lips, reposing upon the whiteness of the pillows and fixed them upon that radiant space of outer world visible between the dark-framing of the half-open shutters.
Griggs could hear Gloria's clear, high laugh above the rest. His blood slowly rose in his throat. But no one pulled the curtain across. The Philistines, young artists, mad with Carnival, improvised a very eccentric dance of triumph, and the laughter increased. Griggs looked at the cords. Then his mask-like face turned slowly to the audience.
Brother Basil, unharmed and serene, sat upon a rude wooden bench at the entrance of a cave, and around him were gathered wolves and wolf-like human beings clad in wolf-pelts. One, who seemed the leader, stood erect, broad-shouldered and muscular, in a mantle made of the hide of a giant wolf, the head shaped into a helmet to be drawn mask-like down over the face.
By and bye Francesca passed them again, on her way out. "I shall expect you after four o'clock," she said, nodding graciously as she went by. Dalrymple looked after her, till she had left the shop. "That woman is not like other women, I think," he said thoughtfully, to his companion. The mask-like face turned itself deliberately towards him, with shadowy, unwinking eyes.
She was on the verge of dreadful laughter, but she caught it back, instinctively aware that she must keep her strength this unwonted strength of desperation that had come to her as long as possible. He heard her without emotion. His face was grim and mask-like, frozen into hard, unyielding lines. "It is certainly best that I should know it," he said. "But I have not yet heard all.
His expression was one of extreme and fixed good humor, as if his face had been set, mask-like, during a grin. He removed the pipe from his lips. "Gineral, the flag I've been holdin' fer thot dom' young surveyor is the wrong color. I want a green flag." Baxter waved the Irishman to his errand, but General Lodge looked up from the maps and plans before him with a faint smile.
Yes, it was Gomez, but no longer the Gomez of the demure smile and the mask-like expression. Here was a face with flashing eyes and distorted features, a face convulsed with hatred and with the mad joy of gratified revenge. "Lord Roxton!" he shouted. "Lord John Roxton!" "Well," said our companion, "here I am." A shriek of laughter came across the abyss.
Instead, he stood leaning against the tall china stove. "Needless to tell you," he observed, "the antecedents of the princess." "Quite needless." "Married seven years ago to Charles Sydney Bamborough," promptly giving the unnecessary information which was not wanted. De Chauxville nodded. "Where is Sydney Bamborough?" asked Vassili, with his mask-like smile. "Dead," replied the other quietly.
Westerling turned from a sight worse to him than the killing that of the flowing retreat along the road pressing frantically over the dead and wounded in growing disorder for the cover of the town, and found himself face to face with the mask-like features of that malingerer who had told him on the veranda that the Grays could not win. Gall flooded his brain.
The yellow man shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it made little difference to him in this case. Johnny peeled a bill from his roll of United States currency and handed it to him. "Wo Cheng," he said slowly, "go north, Jap woman? Go north, that Russian? Why?" The Chinaman's face took on a mask-like appearance. "No can do," he muttered. "Allatime keep mouth shut my."
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