"Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. 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. " "Oh, dear! how I should like to see him.
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