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 do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your present cause of distress. laws alone swamp our small staff. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. I keep my finger on the pulse of things. ’ She bit her lip and thought deeply.
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