She were brought to bed a few days after Miss Mary. ToC The day appointed for the execution was now close at hand, and the prisoner, who seemed to have abandoned all hopes of escape, turned his thoughts entirely from worldly considerations. After all, it was really rather funny. “You must do more than think of it,” he urged. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. 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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