"I cannot break my vow. ” Ennison was dismayed. ” “Go!” he said. He noted an ebony cane laid close to hand, which suggested she was able to get about. 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. I’ve seen Brewis Charvill, by the by.
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