Crass and Sawkins looked on in silence.
Just as Misery was about to commence he fancied he heard someone whispering somewhere.

He laid down the brush and crawled stealthily upstairs to see who it was.

Directly his back was turned Crass seized a bottle of oil that was standing near and, tipping about half a pint of it into the paint, stirred it up quickly.

Misery returned almost immediately: he had not caught anyone; it must have been fancy.

He took up the brush and began to paint.