He found himself in a great, round room, or rather an oval one,
domed at the top but tinted in a far more beautiful colouring--
lazuli blue. The walls were cut by long, narrow windows reaching
far up into the sweep where the side melted into the ceiling. The
material of the windows was of the same translucent substance
already noted, but slightly tinged with green, so that they shed a
soft light, cooled and quiet, over the whole assembly.
On the wall opposite the doorway was a large replica of the
clover-leaf design outside, even more gem-like in brilliance; its
three colours woven into a trinity almost of flame. Whether the
light was artificial or intrinsic, Chick could not say. The floor
of the place accommodated some three hundred tables, of the
library type, and the same number of men bearing the distinguished
stamp of the Rhamda. All were smooth-shaven, comparatively tall,
and possessing the same aesthetic manner which impressed one with
the notion of inherited, inherent culture. The entire hall had the
atmosphere of learning, justice and the supreme tribunal.
For a moment Watson felt weak and uncertain. He could hold up
against Geos and Avec, but in the face of such an array he wasn't
so sure. There was but one thing to encourage him; the faces into
which he looked. All were full of wonder and reverence.
Then he looked about him more carefully.
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