“Mr. "Given a chance, I can make bread and butter. She had never even brought a friend home in her time at the Becks, let alone been asked on dates. 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. ” “Because your nerves were exposed, that was no excuse for my touching them. Having accomplished his intent, Gerald let the lad go and had himself driven back to Stratton Street.
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