Dropping on her knees she attacked with her nails the wall where, while she remained in that posture, it was about the height of her head--endeavouring to drive the edges through the paper, and to pick it off, as children do. But her attempts were less successful than are the efforts of the average ingenious child. "I can't, Tom, I can't! My fingers are not strong enough, and my nails are broken--don't be angry with me, Tom." She made frantic little dabs at the wall. But her endeavours to make an impression on the paper were without result. It was plain that with her unassisted nails she might continue to peck at it in vain for ever. Madge turned to Mr. Graham. [Illustration: "'I can't, Tom, I can't! My fingers are not strong enough, and my nails are broken--don't be angry with me, Tom!'" (_To face p_. 290.)] "Have you a pocket-knife?" Without a word he took one from his waistcoat pocket. Not waiting for him to open it, she took it from him with an action which almost amounted to a snatch. With her own fingers she opened the largest blade. Making a large, and under the circumstances curious circuit, in order to reach her, leaning over the washstand, touching the woman on the shoulder, she held out to her the knife. Shrinking under Madge's finger, with an exclamation she looked round to see who touched her. "Take this," said Madge. "It's a knife. With its help you'll be better able to tear the paper off the wall." She took it--without a word of thanks, and, with it in her grasp, returned to the attack with energies renewed. "I've got a knife, Tom, I've got a knife. Now I'll get the paper off quicker--much quicker. I'll soon get to your money, Tom." But she did not get to it. On the contrary, the process of stripping off the paper did not proceed much more rapidly than before, even with the help of Mr. Graham's knife. It was with the greatest difficulty that she was able to get off two or three square inches. The disappearance, however, of even this small portion revealed the fact that the paper-hanger who had been responsible for putting it into place, instead of stripping off the previous wall covering, as paperhangers are supposed to do, had been content, to save himself what he had, perhaps, deemed unnecessary trouble, to paste this latest covering on the previous one. This former paper appeared to have been of that old-fashioned kind which used to be popular in the parlours of country inns, and such-like places, and which was wont to be embellished with "pictorial illustrations." The scraping off, by the woman, of the small fragments of paper which she had succeeded in removing, showed that the one beneath it seemed to have been ornamented with more or less striking representations of various four-footed animals. On the space laid bare were figures of what might have been meant for anything; and which, in the light of the last line on Mr. Ballingall's manuscript, were probably intended for cats and dogs.