He was now aided with a powerful implement, with which he soon contrived to make a hole in the wall. He was helpful, but gravely dubious. Hastily, he reached for the door. For a time she furnished the flat. ’ Still no response. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. She had heard Alice talking and crying at the same time, a painful noise. Wood gave the required promise, though he could not help thinking that if either of them had cause to be jealous he was the party. To these she added the wine and spirits directed, and when all was arranged looked inquisitively at her master. .
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