"General inspection after lunch; drying bins, stores and the young palms south-east. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. A moment afterwards, the door was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself alone. ‘It must seem strange to you at first. The tables were then cleared. But a far greater affliction was in store for her. 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.
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