" "Oh. 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. Now, I know you can restore him to his rights, if you choose. ” The tired woman shut her eyes tightly for a moment, and then looked with them at Ann Veronica. Wood's astonishment and displeasure momentarily increased.
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