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"This tongue looks remarkably nice," he added, slicing off an immense wedge, "excuse me—ho! ho!" "You make yourself at home, I perceive," observed Kneebone, with a look of ineffable disgust. At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels. He disappeared into its thick doors like a magician’s rabbit. 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.

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