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. " Bamboo and bead tinkled and slithered behind him. Only your horror of a grandfather insisted on coming with me, so I had to wait for him to be ready and travel at his pace. Nothing else so quickly establishes the condition of comradeship as the sharing of a laughable incident.
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