What lends a tragic mockery to all these tender traps of hers was that she was within lawful bounds. I shall know what to say to him when he comes. 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. He only laughed his defiance. Mother and Son.
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