There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. Borne in the arms of a couple of assistants, and preceded by Mrs. " Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,—for the stout prizefighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,—and the procession again set forward. Diane seemed more interested in the prestige of her violin skills than in the more sordid subject of her vampirism. 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. ’ The sergeant’s air became positively avuncular. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother.
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