His face clouded with anger. "Was I out of my head?" "Yes. I tried it myself, Sir. Mr. 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. “Has she ever thought of buying a pair of foam earplugs?” Lucy asked. "My head fairly turns round. Niente.
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