In a side-glance—for the floor was variously encumbered with overturned objects—he saw one of his paper weights, a coloured glass ball such as McClintock used in trade. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. Diving towards it, he tried to press against the rivulet that was seeping from it, hampered mightily by Melusine’s fingers, which were grasping at his other hand. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally. Her fingers closed upon it instinctively. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. "Who? Jack!" exclaimed Jonathan. .
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