“There were some Hampshire Pellissiers. It was in fact the first embrace of motherhood she had ever known. ’ ‘About me?’ The lady’s lashes fluttered and her fan came up. ’ Pierced to the heart by the poignancy of this utterance, Gerald could neither move nor speak. Be seated, and calm yourself. 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. It was not in evidence here, not a sign of it.
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