” “There’s a sort of instinct of rebellion,” said Capes. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. ” “I wish I could make you visible to yourself. 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. She worried for Cathy, working double shifts at the nearby family restaurant to help make ends meet. The girl was in the game now, and that narrowed the circle.
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