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“To the best of my belief, I have not a single English acquaintance in the city. . She had very few clear memories before a particular day in the library, when they had finished one of her first reading lessons. 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.
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