That delightful sense of free, unembarrassed movement was gone. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. "Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. "' Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron bannisters, and measured the distance. The Bed Room 400 XIX.
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