Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow. She was trembling a little. 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. John found Lucy after his Advanced Geometry class. The Palazzo was unlike anything she had ever known.
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