But I'm not worrying about that. " "Did he owe you money?" "Oh, no!" "Then why do you wish to know?" Ah Cum pondered. You don’t understand. ‘Odds were against it. 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. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand.
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