Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. 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. ” Anna laughed, gave in and with deft fingers created order out of chaos.
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