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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. Half a minute, Vee. Giles's round-house on my own responsibility. ’ ‘You wouldn’t,’ agreed Mrs Sindlesham. Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again.
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