” Ann Veronica could have wept with vexation. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. Jests are not for seasons like this. 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. “I am sure she will be very happy indeed with Doctor Ralph. Mrs.
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