” “You mean to say,” Anna said slowly, “that you are going to leave your husband?” “Yes. 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. ” “I wonder,” he said, a trifle irrelevantly, “what the future has in store for you. " "Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices. I am sure.
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