He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. I have since received a most extraordinary letter from her. 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. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. "Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. In the struggle her cap fell off.
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