His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. 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. " "Egad, Jack," said Gay, "you should write your adventures. . Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. My Dad doesn’t want it necessarily, but he realizes that if he doesn’t give my 185 Mom this one it’s divorce for sure. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire.
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