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. “You fill me with happiness, John. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. Once he chuckled aloud. But, answer me. The day was sunny and pleasant, devoid of chill winds.
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