Selling out of the Army to take up his inheritance had spelled boredom to Gerald Alderley. 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. ” She put her face closer to his. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. And yet the secondary emotion was one of suspicion. To his consternation, she was holding an unwieldy, ugly-looking pistol, all wood and tarnished steel, with both hands about the butt. Gifts came from Florence: rubies and emeralds, a beautiful statue of Santa Maria for their garden grotto, a gorgeous silk tapestry of a hunting scene that alone made the price of her dowry look paltry. ’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology.
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