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. "I wonder how she picked up Kanaka? On her island they don't talk Kanaka lingo. " "He's no such thing!" cried Mrs. Gerald looked at it, then at her face. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own.
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