"I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much longer here. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. We all did that in our youth, when first we came upon a fine story; else we were worthless metal indeed. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous.
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