He saw the colossal selfishness of his act; but he could not beg off on the plea of abnormality. ” He was dressed in his uniform of a Polo shirt and twill pants. 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. Well, that’s the situation.
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