She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension. Her mouth at half-cock, Melusine stood there staring at him. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. He kissed her once inside the car. But all this business has driven it clean out of my head. 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. Its importance had vanished with her abandonment of compromise.
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