‘Never. Kneebone's. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. 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. Its very calmness was frightful. 54 \"Yes?\" \"No one says 'Oh my word' anymore. Would Gerald wish his friend to follow the man? He had hardly registered the decision that he had best do so, albeit with some reluctance, when his trained senses alerted him to an extraordinary circumstance.
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