“Vivian! Violet!” His tone was low, exciting. “You have your summer boat paid for right now! I know a museum curator who will pay you handsomely for these pieces.”
“I—I sort of wanted them for my museum,” Vivian demurred. “But the boat—”
“Oh, yes, the boat!” Violet exclaimed. “The boat! The boat!” At that she grabbed Vivian and Jeanne both at once and together they went whirling madly around the room.
CHAPTER XXIV
THROUGH THE PICTURE
Florence was in the studio alone. Miss Mabee had been called away to New York. The fire in the hearth had burned out. Florence had not troubled to rebuild it. The place seemed cold, lonely, deserted. As she sat there musing, she seemed to hear the words of Poe’s Raven: “Never more.”
Never more what? Well, surely never again would she believe in those who told fortunes by reading cards, gazing into a crystal ball, or studying stars.
“Fakers all,” she murmured. “Simple, harmless people, most of them; but fakes for all that! They—”
She broke short off to listen. Had she caught some sound of movement in the room? It did not seem possible. The door was securely locked. The door? Two doors really. She recalled discovering a secret panel door at the side of the room.
“Just behind that picture,” she told herself.
The picture, on which she bestowed a fleeting glance, was the one Miss Mabee had prepared for the little show to be put on for Tum Morrow’s benefit, the paper picture through which Jeanne was supposed to jump. “Wonder if that show will ever come off?” she mused. “Wonder—”