At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. His wife met him at the door, and into her hands he delivered his little charge. Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry. 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. " McClintock saw indeed—two things: that the boy had no conceit and that this odd girl would always be giving. This was irregular.
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