“I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out. ’ ‘Wait!’ Leaning forward, Hilary tapped on the panel. Sheppard, that I fear any further anxiety might prove fatal to him. 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. My goodness gracious. Where is Father Spencer? I must have absolution. Lots of us are like that. "Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain.
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