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. I came here to beg you not to sign that contract. She came quickly into the little parlour, which now seemed inordinately crowded, and coming up to Melusine, seized her hands in a warm clasp. “He seems like such a nice boy. God only knows what I have done, or left undone. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. ” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes.
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