"That would be certain destruction. "What of her?" cried the knight. ’ Melusine shrugged. But how long would she last, withering away to a desiccated pile of skin and bone? Round and round she would go. 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. Cathy gave her a bear hug and patted her severe 252 hairdo. "Hist!" cried Rowland, arresting his comrade.
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