“I want to show you something. . ’ ‘Very true. It seemed to them they could never have been really alive before, but only dimly anticipating existence. “Lucy, my brother is home and I borrowed the cash from him. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. 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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