” She roused herself from some dream at the word. ” The strain in her face was visible as she tried to remember. ” They went on for a time without another word. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. 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. “Not at all. She was surprised and stared at him when he did not immediately leave the bed as Gianfrancesco always did, but instead rested on his elbows.
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