Wood," she continued, in an authoritative tone, seeing her husband ready to depart, "one word before you set out. . ” She eyed him scornfully. "I warn you, if you do not send for a doctor immediately, you will have cause to regret it," Ruth declared vigorously. I just don’t know where to start. “Please go and see that—nothing happens,” she pleaded. 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. He still watched her and questioned her.
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