Publisher's Synopsis
"Burn it!" he said, and offered me his cigarette. I drew back. He gestured--peremptorily. I pressed the glowing end of the cigarette into the ribbon of white flesh. He did not flinch nor was there odour of burning nor, as I drew the little cylinder away, any mark upon the whiteness. "Feel it!" he commanded again. I placed my fingers upon the band. It was cold--like frozen marble. He drew his shirt around him.