His features were set and rigid.
Thalassa stood still, his eyes brooding on the sharp outline of the bent mask.

A vague idea, startling and terrible, was magnifying itself in his mind.

Once his glance wandered to Ravenshaw's neck, then returned with growing fixity to his face, seen at closer range than he had ever beheld it.

In the vivid light the elemental lines beneath the changes of time took on a strange resemblance to a face he had known in the distant past.
A spectral being seemed to rise from the dead and resume life in the kneeling body of Dr.Ravenshaw.
Involuntarily he stepped back, and the likeness vanished in the added distance.

The veil of the past was dropped again.