"Can you hear anything now?" he queried.
"Our voices even don't reach him unless we shout very loudly, but all the time he is hearing his own heart thud, thud, thudding. I know!"
They waited in silence until the moment should be reached when the plaster was in a fit condition for Jack to draw up the two strings and thus divide the mask. As they sat there a slight tumult was heard in the street without. It was merely a couple of dogs fighting, yet under any circumstances Pallister found it impossible to remain impervious to external excitements. In an instant he was at the window.
"Pooh! I hoped it was a mad dog, but it's only a silly fight, and now even that's over," he remarked in disgusted tones.
He was turning away, when suddenly he stopped short, bent forward, then beckoned excitedly to Jack.
"I say, Do come here! Hurry up and look. Don't you dare grumble at your luck again, for I'll eat my hat if here isn't your long-sought 'Belle Dame'! Isn't that just the red hair and pale little face you want?"
In a second Jack was by his side. His glance followed Pallister's directing finger, and he positively gasped.
"Good heavens!" he cried excitedly, staring down into the street. "It's exactly what I've been looking for! Pallister, it's like a dream!"
Undeniably the girl was uncommon—beautiful in her own curious style—individual—almost peculiar.
"But do you think she would pose for you? It's wildly unlikely that she should just happen to be a model."