"You play?" asked McClintock, who was sorting the rolls. 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. " She had brought home a puppy one day. Stanley decided to treat that as irrelevant. At a little distance from the party, sat a tall, sinister-looking personage, with harsh inflexible features, a gaunt but muscular frame, and large bony hands. I had no curiosity of that kind. They both listened intently.
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