She’s naïve, and yet uncannily shrewd at times, and you daren’t rely on anything she says. The next moment, an exclamation was heard in the voice of Thames. "Si—lence!" vociferated Charcam, laying great emphasis on the last syllable. 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. " "The pianist?" "Yes. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. Sheppard stopped him. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned.
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