He promptly departed and I heard the key turn in the lock behind him.
Sandy stood there, but a new Sandy who made Blenkiron and me jump to our feet.

The pelts and skin-cap had gone, and he wore instead a long linen tunic clasped at the waist by a broad girdle.

A strange green turban adorned his head, and as he pushed it back I saw that his hair had been shaved.

He looked like some acolyte--a weary acolyte, for there was no spring in his walk or nerve in his carriage.

He dropped numbly on the divan and laid his head in his hands.