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. Vanity was a vice not just to be deprecated, but effectively strangled at birth. Mr. Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks. " "Oh!" exclaimed the widow, covering her face with her hands. " Mrs.
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