“If you say so, my pet. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. Pausing at each door on the landing, Jack placed his ear to the keyhole, and listened intently. . 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 word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman.
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