Part 2 They received the guests in their pretty little hall with genuine effusion. I'm burning up. And the woman who showed this room was tall, with an understanding eye and the quiet manner of the well-trained servant. ” “I don’t want to,” said Manning. He could not doubt it. 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. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being.
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