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. “Don’t be too sure of that,” she answered enigmatically. ” “And I,” Brendon said, humbly, “although I am afraid there is no chance for me, my errand was the same. I’ve made up my mind. You have not considered the advantages. This is the first act. “It would be easier if Katy would just lay off.
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