” She could not go on, for she was laughing and crying at the same time. “I may as well come up by this train. The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being. 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. Something has happened to change her marvellously, either that, or she wilfully deceived me and every one else in those days as to her real self.
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