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. The evil in his eyes towards her was explosive. ‘That is good,’ she said with satisfaction, ‘for I was compelled on Saturday to abandon the chase.
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