Acquainted with every part of the jail, Jack well knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must be by the roof. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. 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.
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