the last supper

the last supper
accustomed to rest my hand in painting, to prevent the card-board from
being sullied. What he suddenly saw on this blank paper, it was
impossible for me to tell; but something had caught his eye. He took
it up with a snatch; he looked at the edge; then shot a glance at
me, inexpressibly peculiar, and quite incomprehensible: a glance
that seemed to take and make note of every point in my shape, face,
and dress; for it traversed all, quick, keen as lightning. His lips
parted, as if to speak: but he checked the coming sentence, whatever
it was.
the last supper
'What is the matter?' I asked.
'Nothing in the world,' was the reply; and, replacing the paper,
I saw him dexterously tear a narrow slip from the margin. It
disappeared in his glove; and, with one hasty nod and
'good-afternoon,' he vanished.
'Well!' I exclaimed, using an expression of the district, 'that
caps the globe, however!'
I, in my turn, scrutinised the paper; but saw nothing on it save
a few dingy stains of paint where I had tried the tint in my pencil. I
the last supper