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“It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. I do not believe that you will marry David Courtlaw. “Hill’s confession will finally refute a number of absurd stories which have been in circulation during the last few days. 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. ‘When she lies outright, she thinks about it. One who—who—tres. They went down the great staircase of the building, and, while she sought in her mind for a beginning, he broke into appreciation of her simple dress and selfcongratulations upon their engagement.

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