Back into his blue eyes I looked.

On the surface of them was a film of light, a gloss of gentle kindness and cordiality, but behind that gloss I knew resided neither sincerity nor mercy.

Behind that gloss was something cold and terrible, that lurked and waited and watched--something catlike, something inimical and deadly.

Behind that gloss of soft light and of social sparkle was the live, fearful thing that had shaped that mouth into the gash it was.

What I sensed behind in those eyes chilled me with its repulsiveness and strangeness.
As I faced Mr.Mellaire, and talked with him, and smiled, and exchanged amenities, I was aware of the feeling that comes to one in the forest or jungle when he knows unseen wild eyes of hunting animals are spying upon him.