You see me here, an admitted failure in the object to which I have devoted two years of my life. Gerald lifted an eyebrow. ‘Nevertheless, he will neither help me, nor will I seek his help. “I cannot say who he is,” said Ann Veronica, “but he is a married man. But, answer me. 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.
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