"No," rejoined Thames, "I won't be treated like a common felon, if I can help 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. She was suddenly very aware of the room, the television still blaring, and the chill in the air. I'm sure she'll let me go, though. " "Good enough for me.
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