"I didn't think you'd been so easily fooled, Joan. I’ve had my time and lost my chances. Wood started to his feet. Michelle waved to her, then flitted over to where she was sitting. Whenever they stepped from the chairs, he stepped down. 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.
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