‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. ” He said mischievously. She should have slapped him but she was in shock at her own thoughts of lust that arose. 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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