I glanced toward the severed head.
McCann was bending over it, staring down into its eyes, his own not more than a few inches away from
the glinting blue crystals. His hands clutched the table edge and I saw that they were strained and tense as
though he were making a violent effort to push himself away. When he had tossed the head upon the
table it had come to rest against the knotted cord-but now that cord was twisted around the doll's
severed neck and around its forehead as though it were a small serpent!
And distinctly I saw that McCann's face was moving closer…slowly closer…to that tiny one…as though it
were being drawn to it…and that in the little face a living evil was concentrated and that McCann's face
was a mask of horror.
"McCann!" I cried, and thrust an arm under his chin, jerking back his head. And as I did this I could have