"But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?" "Under the table!" echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack. But it is the truth. She saw marks in the dirt where he had been pacing. This Joan would hold them for a little. "What do you mean?" cried Winifred in alarm. 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.
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