" "Ah! you're so very particular," sighed Mrs. 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. ‘What happened, ma’am?’ enquired Gerald gently. But one could not count with any confidence upon Capes.
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