He could see nothing now but the commonplace whiskered face of an elderly Cornish doctor bending over the inanimate form on the couch.

Again the lamp shook slightly.
"What are you doing with that light ?" said Ravenshaw peevishly.

"Cannot you hold it steady?
Bring it closer, man--closer than that.

Now, hold it there." In the nearer vision the elemental lines of a forgotten face again confronted Thalassa beneath the flabby contours of age.

It was like looking at a familiar outline covered by a mask--a transparent mask.