Read "Jimgrim" by Talbot Mundy online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
He looked like another being -- a different monster, revived by the stuff he had drunk. His Mongolian features seemed to have been sharpened. His eyes glittered. He looked as unsympathetic as flint -- as devoid of humour as a turtle. His head now was erect on his neck, and his neck looked almost brittle it was so incapable of bowing to any mood or morals not approved of by the bulging brain. There was a suggestion of the gladiator grown contemptuous of fear from too much use of its effect on others. Even his spidery legs had new strength; they were under him, instead of seeming afraid of his weight. And when he spoke, although he still could not pronounce the letter "s," his voice had the jarring gracelessness of power that is beyond passion and not qualified by doubt.
"He smells of ice," said Baltis in an undertone. "Do you know now why a woman neither loves nor hates him, but obeys?"