The crown has passed from the brow of one monarch to that of another. F. 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. " "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. ” She paused, and he waited for her to speak. " As he said this, a slight noise was heard without.
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