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“Katy Pfister. Part 8 “Why should I ever come back?” she said to herself, as she went down the staircase. ” “Annabel! Annabel!” Annabel stamped her foot. ” He recovered himself. ” Courtlaw was pale and dishevelled. 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’s temper flared. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother.
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