She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. She took up a book and threw it down again. Keep his arms down. She rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards. On seeing it, he'll deliver you a box, which it will unlock, and in which you'll find a matter of fifty guineas and a few trinkets. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. 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. Like a petulant child he snapped. Come, make yourself scarce. I've told you about him; and you wrote a shrewd yarn on the subject.
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