They returned to the castle, neither of them speaking. Two women entered and sat down at the adjoining table. Wild," replied the other, "a little shaken, that's all. . 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 was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast.
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