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 waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. " "Don't mind us, Ma'am," said Mr. He was still thickly clad in jeans. \" Lucy said.
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