'You go to bed, said Torpenhow. 'You aren't at all well, though you mayn't know it. You're as jumpy as a cat. 'I reform to-morrow. Good-night. As he repassed through the studio, Torpenhow lifted the cloth above the picture, and almost betrayed himself by outcries: 'Wiped out! scraped out and turped out! He's on the verge of jumps as it is. That's Bess, the little fiend!