Chapter Twenty Four
Chou Zhang’s Laboratory
I cannot conceive that any ordinary mortal ever attained to anything like an intimacy with the man I knew as Chou Zhang and I cannot believe that any man, no matter how remarkable, could ever grow used to his presence or cease to fear him.
I suppose I had set eyes upon the abomination, as my thoughts described him, some five or six times prior to this occasion, and now he was dressed in the manner which I always associated with both him and the culture that spawned him.
He wore a plain yellow robe, and, his pointed chin rested upon his bosom as he looked down at me, revealing a great expanse of the marvellous brow with its sparse, neutral-coloured hair.
Never in my experience have I known such force to dwell in the glance of any human eye as
