He seemed to carry a hundred secrets around with him, and each one a deadly weapon he would some day use against any who might offend him.

He, too, gave you the idea of power, but it was the power of a subordinate.
Instinctively I felt that I should have more to do with these men than with the rest of the company present.
Although I have used a page of good paper in describing them, I was only a very few seconds in seeing and realizing what I have written.
Both walked up to us, and both smiled on Mrs.Temple, whereupon she introduced them.

The first had a peculiar name; at least, so it seemed to me.
"Mr.Herod Voltaire--Mr.Justin Blake," she said; and instantly we were looking into each other's eyes, I feeling a strange kind of shiver pass through me.
The name of the smaller man was simply that of an Egyptian, "Aba Wady Kaffar." The guests called him Mr.Kaffar, and thus made it as much English as possible.
Scarcely had the formalities of introduction been gone through between the Egyptian and myself, when my eyes were drawn to the door, which was again opening.

Do what I would I could not repress a start, for, to my surprise, I saw my travelling companions enter with Miss Temple--Gertrude Forrest looking more charming and more beautiful than ever, and beside her Miss Staggles, tall, gaunt, and more forbidding than when in the railway carriage.
It is no use denying the fact, for my secret must sooner or later drop out.

My heart began to throb wildly, while my brain seemed on fire.