I am offering you my skill and knowledge, such as they may be, without any thought or hope of reward." "Why ?" "Because I am tired of life.

Because I want--must have--the freedom of the open roads, the inspiration of some great adventure! Surely, you understand." "Yes, if what you say is true, and you are not a spy.

Show us your face, sir!" The aviator loosened his helmet and removed it, disclosing a mass of dark hair, a well-shaped head and a vigorous neck.

Then he took off his goggles.
A kind of communal whisper of astonishment and hostility ran round the apartment.

The man's whole face--save for eyeholes through which dark pupils looked strangely out--was covered by a close-fitting, flesh-colored celluloid mask.
This mask reached from the roots of his hair to his mouth.