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. Gerald saw her extract something and leapt aside, calling a warning to Hilary. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. Sheppard. Brown.
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