“You know,” he went on, “this doesn’t seem to me to end anything. Now how in the world was he to get rid of the husband? His luck was in. ” The note of his own voice exasperated him. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. 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. " Ruth slightly brushed the withered cheek. ’ For my own part I go about loving. She felt she had stepped into a world of unknown usages.
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