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. She turned back to Gerald, holding out her hand. He swore when I tried to get it out with the ladle, and told me what it said. ’ ‘Tchah!’ He glared at her. To-morrow morning I shall have made up my mind what to do. " "Others may, if you won't," muttered Jack, retiring. ” “As sentinel.
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