1. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. You see, aunt, it’s the only possible way for me to get a good degree in my subjects, and father won’t hear of it. If not, I'll convey him to St. 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.
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