” 189 “Are you feeling okay?” She could feel a parade of ants dotting her skin. Poe is all right, if you don't mind nightmares. 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. He gave her silence in return. ‘That’s what comes of disarming yourself. Is it an old ring?” he asked, returning it. ’ ‘I still think you ought to have waited, miss.
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