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. “Oh, it is okay. "It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. Inside was the blue stone she had lost in the 1800’s. Was the young lady impatient for experience? Was she adventurous? As a man of the world he did not think it becoming to accept maidenly calm as anything more than a mask. But Jack was too nimble for him.
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