"You have defied me, and shall feel my power. Her pa was only the smithy. She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. ’ ‘With ease, mademoiselle,’ he countered, catching her blade. 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. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. “It’s not for us to supplicate any more.
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