Sheppard's house, "forward!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob, and the whole phalanx was put in motion in that direction. Or perhaps my father once. As for me, I look twice at it. 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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