They trudged and talked, and Manning struggled, as he said, to “get the hang of it all. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. . Mr. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. He unhooked it from the front clasp. The massive door was unlocked, and they entered the cell.
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