The window was still wide open, the stretcher showed a pale gray blur.

Vandover was about to light the gas when he checked himself, his arm still raised above his head.

Ah, no; he did not dare to look at the result of his day's work.

It would be better to start in afresh from the beginning.

He found the chamois skin on the tray of the easel and rubbed out all the drawing on the canvas.