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. Seeing provisions in the window, Jack ventured in and bought a loaf. But then you're an adopted son, and that makes all the difference. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. He measured out the portion of another peg, the bottle wavering in his hand. ” “I will wait,” said Ann Veronica, still not looking at him, “and we will go into Regent’s Park.
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