But in a moment she believed she understood. Several of the assailants carried links, so that the room was a blaze of light. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which looked very much like a rolling-pin. She was conscious of a ceaseless undercurrent of sound—the guttural Chinese tongue. Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen. And would you mind hurrying a little. "Get ready the irons, Caliban.
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