CHAPTER XXIV. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. He moaned. Only of course I must begin something else at once. This is a good piano. I would even have taken a place as waitress in a tea shop.
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