"One for the ghost in the gallery," I said cheerfully to myself as I slipped it into my hip pocket, "and one for the artist in the studio," and I slipped the second into the other hip pocket. "And now for the masterpiece."
CHAPTER XIV THE MYSTERIES OF THE STUDIO
Taking up a lighted candle and the keys both of the tower and of the picture gallery, I directed my steps towards the latter place. It was situated at some distance from the library, and, the house being new to me, I had some difficulty in finding it.
In the distance the sound of jovial carols told me that in the servants' quarters due homage was being paid to the spirit of the season. Floating faintly along the corridors came the snatches of a refrain—
"Come, bring with a noise,
My merry, merry boys,
The Christmas log to the firing;
While my old dame she