Seized, by an impulse, occult or mechanic, the vicomte rose and drew near.

The younger woman made a gesture.

Was it of recognition?
The vicomte could not say.

But he saw her lean toward her companion, whisper a word which caused the grey mask to wheel quickly.

She seemed to grow taller, while a repelling light flashed from the eyeholes of the grey mask.
"Mesdames," said the vicomte with elaborate courtesy, "the sight of the Indian doubtless alarms you, but he is perfectly harmless.