” It was nearly half an hour before they dared ask him the question. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. The Ragged Edge. How I could have been such a fool I’ll never know. 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. The will to live had returned. I’ve never had these crying fits before. ” “Oh, I might,” he answered, “have gone further still. These realizations rushed into Ann Veronica’s mind and hardened her heart against him. It was, in fact, a group of interests quite unlike any other group, peculiar and special, and one to be thoroughly ashamed of. ” The topic of his invalid wife bored him, and he turned at once to Ann Veronica.
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