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Sheppard. She had found it in 1988, the year of the stock market crash. She blew on the hand cannon and grabbed her bag of gunpowder. “All these days I have taken her for you. 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. ” “And I may bring my luggage in and send that cabman away?” Anna asked. Be honest, and you will be happy. She had no place she loved. Sheppard broke from him, and filled the room with her shrieks. She loved him.
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