It was a new unearthly language, more like a glimpse of the next world than anything in this.
The combination of color and music was having a highly desirable effect on me.

Nothing could have done more to counteract the effects of the godless din that bowled me over in the other cavern.
But King was having a rotten time.

He was heaving now as he tried to master himself.

I heard him exclaiming-- "Oh my God!" as if the physical torture were unbearable.
The Gray Mahatma was not troubling about King.

He had shifted his position so as to watch me, and he seemed to expect me to collapse.