He filled her glass with champagne. 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. ’ ‘That’s right,’ agreed the militiaman, coming forward to stand before her. ‘I have an arthritic complaint, which is why you find me retired from fashionable life.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 27-09-2024 01:18:21