He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast. "I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. It seems that he was a sort of family friend of the Pellissiers, and it was the artist sister whom he was with. It was Martin, she could hear his heart beat.
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