Dinner was served at 5:30. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. . 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. He knew me, Nigel. He kissed her once inside the car. ’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology.
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