E. . . We shall be equally matched. Her aunt had secretly sent on to Ann
Veronica some new warm underclothing, a dozen pairs of stockings, and her last
winter’s jacket, but the dear lady had overlooked those boots. She thought me—
filthy. . She saw her aunt in
tears, her father white-faced and hard hit. Wells
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almost no restrictions whatsoever. He could think about it
later. Treasure caves to
explore!
All through these trying days she had recurrently wondered what this strange
young man would have to say that Dickens and Hugo had not already said. 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. And
the woman who showed this room was tall, with an understanding eye and the
quiet manner of the well-trained servant. Wood laughed louder than ever.
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