Almost at the same instant another figure loomed large in
the window-frame.
CHAPTER XXVII
SLIGHTLY FARCICAL
Something bulky was struggling to get through the window. Half hidden in
the shadow, Christabel watched with the deepest interest. If she had been
afraid at first that sensation had entirely departed by this time. From
the expression of her face she might have been enjoying the novel
situation. It was certainly not without a suggestion of the farcical.
The burly figure contrived to squeeze through the narrow casement at
length and stood breathing loudly in the corridor. It was not a pleasant
sight that met Christabel's gaze--a big man with a white, set face and
rolling eyes and a stiff bandage about his throat. Evidently the intruder
was utterly exhausted, for he dropped into a chair and nursed his head
between his hands.
"Now what has become of that fool?" he muttered. "Ah!"
He looked round him uneasily, but his expression changed as his eyes fell
on the Rembrandt. He had the furtive look of a starving man who picks up
a purse whilst the owner is still in sight. He staggered towards the
picture and endeavoured to take it gently from the support.
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