He mounted
the stairs and came to a room, magnificent in its Oriental splendor.
Priceless rugs covered the floor and walls, while on wonderfully carved
teakwood stands reposed ancient porcelains, specimens of bygone
dynasties, antique arms and armor cunningly wrought, jades and ivories
marvelously fashioned by master craftsmen long since dead. Seen through
the filmy haze of rising incense, the room was a veritable
treasure-house of Oriental art.
On low settees a few richly clad Chinese were reclining, and in a far
corner, gazing intently into a globe of crystal, sat a man of the same
race as the new-comer, a Madagascan.
Startled at the entrance of the giant, he left off his shadow-gazing and
came hastily forward, cringing as he did so.
The giant, in an impressive, booming voice, now spoke for the first
time.
"I, the Strangler, have come from Madagascar with the Great Torture."
A door opened and Doctor Q entered the room, his head wagging from side
to side.
As he caught sight of the Madagascan he stopped short and put his hand
to his head with a gesture of perplexity, striving piteously to place
the stranger.
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