But to confess about Gerald— no, a thousand times. “I do not wish to make impertinent inquiries into your private life. But she was disturbed, mysteriously disturbed. The road which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a full view of the hill of Hampstead with its church, its crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees. 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. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. If only we are not divided. God would have taken mercy on her baby, seeing that she had already had too much pain and that he had taken her beloved mother. No, you don’t!” Ennison had moved stealthily a little nearer to him, and looked suddenly into the dark muzzle of the revolver.
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