the old monks used to paint. They were all scenes in forests or gardens and the flowers and trees were
the queerest! There were no people or anything in them but you had the strangest feeling that if you had
just a little better eyes you could see people or something behind them. I mean it was as though they
were hiding behind the trees and flowers or among them and looking out at you. I don't know how long I
studied the pictures, trying and trying to see those hidden folk, but at last Madame called me. I went to
the table with the book still in my hand. She said, "That's for the doll I am making of you. Take it up and
see how cleverly it is done." And she pointed to something made of wire on the table. I reached out to
pick it up and then suddenly I saw that it was a skeleton. It was little, like a child's skeleton and all at
once the face of Mr. Peters flashed in my mind and I screamed in a moment of perfectly crazy panic and
threw out my hands. The book flew out of my hand and dropped on the little wire skeleton and there was