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And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven. 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. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks. “Everybody seems to have it now. He was staring at her, openly gaping. 1. "What I said about natural children doesn't apply to you. ‘Sit down, won’t you?’ He crossed back to Roding and said low-voiced. He meant to take her out of this room, perhaps even out of the house. "I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes.
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