Mrs. 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. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. Then Mike came along. But, when I look upon his innocent face, and see how like he is to his father,—when I think of that father's shameful ending, and recollect how free from guilt he once was,—at such times, Mr. ” She turned her face to the fire, gripped her hands upon her elbows, and drew her thin shoulders together in a shrug.
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