It is perfectly intrusive of me, and I quite see that you must be sick to death of running into such an interfering busybody all the time. It was Annabel who spoke. ‘I will not, if you will assure me that an imbecile is a better marriage prospect than a starving pig. 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, she was the very reverse of all this. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. ’ Emile’s eyes blazed. He waved a cordial goodbye.
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