She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. 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. “Now here hath been dawning another blue day; I’m just a poor woman, please take it away.
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This video was uploaded to jiiney.com on 09-06-2024 04:03:58
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