What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. ” “Not exactly,” he answered nervously. Wood started to his feet. And mind he doesn't stir out of your sight, on any pretence whatever, till I call.
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