I merely mention these circumstances to show the accuracy of my information. Don't be frightened of her. It was a bizarre sight, a miniature manor, replicated fully, walled in gray limestone. 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.
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