"
But Queed's steady gaze upon him presently grew unbearable, and at last
the old man raised his head.
"Well? Whom was it addressed to?"
Queed felt disturbingly sorry for him, and, in the same thought, admired
his iron control. The old professor's face was gray; his very lips were
colorless; but his eyes were steady, and his voice was the voice of
every day.
"I think," said Queed, quietly, "that it is addressed to you."
There was a lengthening silence while the two men, motionless, looked
into each other's eyes. The level gaze of each held just the same look
of faint horror, horror subdued and controlled, but still there. Their
stare became fascinated; it ran on as though nothing could ever happen
to break it off. To Queed it seemed as if everything in the world had
dropped away but those brilliant eyes, frightened yet unafraid, boring
into his.
Nicolovius broke the silence. The triumph of his intelligence over his
emotions showed in the fact that he attempted no denial.
"Well?" he said somewhat thickly. "Well?--Well?"
Under the look of the younger man, he was beginning to break.
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