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"This has come in the nick of time. I shall use it tomake the leg of a table."He grasped the hatchet quickly to peel off the bark andshape the wood. But as he was about to give it the firstblow, he stood still with arm uplifted, for he had heard awee, little voice say in a beseeching tone: "Please be careful!
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“And . . .?” I postulated.
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They searched the folds of her skirt and cloak， her pockets，everywhere；but the necklace was nowhere to be seen．
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No cab was to be seen in the street，and，shivering with cold，they trudged on towards the Seine．At last，on the quay，they found an old，rickety cab rarely seen in Paris in the daytime．On reaching their dwelling，they climbed the stairs to their flat in gloomy silence．
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