I cannot do so now, unless you are nice." "I _am_ nice," said Dick, "_very_ nice! Tell me quick." "Well, as I knelt transfixed, watching--the heap on the floor moved and arose.

It was a slight dark man, with a white face, and a mass of tumbled black hair.

He lifted from off his breast as he got up, a violoncello.

He did not look at the woman, nor at the man in the crimson cloak; he stood staring, as if petrified with grief and dismay, at his 'cello.

Following his eyes, I saw a dark jagged stab, piercing its right breast, just above the _f_ hole.