Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. There was nothing of the phenomenon in this. I have strength enough to drag myself there, and I do not want to return. Be a good wife to him. ” Her hand hung over the side of her chair nearest 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. ” She grinned. “It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna.
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