We were hunting and were separated from the rest of the hunters, so I said, ‘There are ways for a man to escape his wife where no one is harmed. 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. PITT, the keeper of Newgate. “You are so sweet, Lucy. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page.
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