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. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully. ‘Well, that depends. If he could keep it up—style and calibre of imagination—within a year the name of Taber would become widely known.
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