” Mike blurted, his voice swallowed by the throb of loud music. She swallowed hard. "Where did you learn the song I heard just now?" he demanded, in an authoritative tone. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. His relation of the murder of Sir Rowland petrified even his fierce auditors. 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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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 16-09-2024 22:27:13
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