. I needed a man the worst kind of way—a man I could keep for at least six months. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. 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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This video was uploaded to ineel.net on 24-06-2024 23:20:33
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