He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. Three cars were lined up in the driveway. ‘Prudence? This name I have heard it spoken. . But I’m going to-day. What a pity! For all her ignorance of material things—the human inventions which served the physical comforts of man—how much she knew about man himself! She had seen him bereft of all those spiritual props which permit man to walk on two feet instead of four—broken, without resilience. . I have an engagement with a theatrical agent—I believe for the ‘Unusual’. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. 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. "It is," replied Sheppard.
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