He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. I shall want you. I was afraid that I might be called upon as a witness. “You have not feeling enough. It must be my fault that you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to—at such a time as this. D. Frequently she would doze in her chair; but the slightest movement on the bed aroused her. Remember! not a word!" So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. But we get over it. 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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