He pressed his lips to her with a much greater force than she had anticipated. "What does Mr. 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 was keen to get to work, but the inspiration would not come. Whenever McClintock had guests, he loafed with them on the west veranda in the morning. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs.
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