It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. But these fears, like those he had recently experienced, speedily vanished, and he prepared to return to the roof, congratulating himself that owing to the opportune falling of the bricks, he had in all probability escaped serious injury. He did not like it, he said, with a significant look, to be reminded of either his books or his dinners after he had done with them. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. 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 don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 09-06-2024 17:46:09
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