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. She had fallen asleep. ” He hesitated, and walked away from her toward the house. " "Go, Sir," rejoined the knight, haughtily. "I'll pledge you in that toast with all my heart.
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