His glances were hard to disguise as he scanned her periodically during class. 83 She stared at his crazily erect penis, mentally comparing it to Gianfrancesco’s. 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. Impressionable, lonely, a deal beyond his analytical reach, the girl might let her sympathies go beyond those of the nurse. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. He could not promise that she would ever appear again in that house. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone.
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