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. ’ ‘There is no need for this,’ he ventured mildly, and lifted his finger to show his own pistol was not cocked. " "Or the flat stones in the meadows, teeming with life underneath.
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