‘The outcome, I think, is in very little doubt. . ‘Get the swords!’ ‘I’ll see to him. But on this matter my mind is quite made up. 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. ” Anna hesitated. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully.
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