” “I thought it was earlier,” said Ann Veronica. ’ Gerald opened his eyes at her. . ‘Oh, famous. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. ’ She sighed relief to see a faint grin as he ventured to raise his head. 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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