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Hey. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance. He must be gone to dispose of the body. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. I would have married her long ago, but she will not have me. He must preserve it, however, as they preserved the Ark of the Covenant. She was faint from hunger, her head spinning into dizziness, the blood madness readying for battle. 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 did not lay any traps for her. It was ten feet long, a relic. 1.
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