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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. Sindlesham tried. " Upon which, with an assurance that he would not do so, the attendant departed. Anna lets the deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. “You did not wish to see him particularly this evening, then?” Anna hesitated. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry.
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