He made a valiant effort to keep his presence of mind and hold his nerves steady. Turning, he saw that Kalkmann’s face was a dead white. Kalkmann! He understood that well enough. Kalkmann meant “Man of Chalk”: he knew that. But what did “ Opfer ” mean? That was the real key to the situation. Words poured through his disordered mind in an endless stream⁠—unusual, rare words he had perhaps heard but once in his life⁠—while “ Opfer ,” a word in common use, entirely escaped him. What an extraordinary mockery it all was!

Then Kalkmann, pale as death, but his face hard as iron, spoke a few low words that he did not catch, and the Brothers standing by the walls at once turned the lamps down so that the room became dim. In the half light he could only just discern their faces and movements.