"Poor fellow! I'm glad he has escaped. Andrew's church, the bell of which was tolling, was covered with spectators. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. According to Wu, the young man had not opened his eyes once during the afternoon. She saw his purpose and his doubt hesitated also, and then went to him, took his coat lapels, and kissed him on the cheek. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair.
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