He turned the light on in the central chandelier, leaving the corners of the room in shadow, like--the parallel forced its way into Thresk's mind--like the tent in Chitipur.

Then very methodically he pulled down the blinds.

He did not look at Thresk and Jane Repton on the couch never stirred.
Thresk's forebodings became a dreadful certainty.

Some evil thing had happened.

He might have been in a house of death.