. Melusine turned and turned, unable to imagine just where the secret door could be. "I am no murderer," replied Sheppard. 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. "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled. But the aunt seized her in her arms and rocked with her.
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