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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. The next moment, an exclamation was heard in the voice of Thames. ‘Sir?’ enquired the lad. "Fire! That was what drew me to you in the beginning. And yet, Spurlock was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth. ‘May I, indeed? I’ll take you up on that. Only Gwen left a letter on the pincushion.
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