‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. He talked at the blackboard in a pleasant, very slightly lisping voice with a curious spontaneity, and was sometimes very clumsy in his exposition, and sometimes very vivid. Directly dinner was over Mr. . 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 haven’t answered my question.
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