And Gerald— Melusine swallowed on an unaccountable lump in her throat. " "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. This niggardliness compelled him to cross and recross streets. 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.
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