I'm the one man in ten thousand who does it.

Mr.
Gerard Roylake, I'm going to trust you." With this incoherent expression of a resolution unknown to me, he unlocked a shabby trunk hidden in a corner, and took from it a small portfolio.
"Men of your age," he resumed, "seldom look below the surface.

Learn that valuable habit, sir--and begin by looking below the surface of Me." He forced the portfolio into my hand.

Once more, his beautiful eyes held me with their irresistible influence; they looked at me with an expression of sad and solemn warning.

"Discover for yourself," he said, "what devils my deafness has set loose in me; and let no eyes but yours see that horrid sight.