He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. She got into rows through meddling with their shoes and tennis-rackets, and had moments of carefully concealed admiration when she was privileged to see them just before her bedtime, rather radiantly dressed in white or pink or amber and prepared to go out with her mother. " "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. “This isn’t a world for an innocent girl to walk about in. 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. He played variations on this theme for the better part of an hour. I'll keep it for your sake. I had already won wars and sailed ships to distant lands by the time I was thirty.
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