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. ” “Bring her—here,” Hill muttered. ’ The lady shook her head, contriving at the same moment to utter a breathy little laugh. “Look round the table,” she said. ‘What the devil for?’ ‘Messenger,’ Gerald explained. I hid because there was no other way of seeing you. I’m a desperate young woman. I went off to round up his wife.
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