That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. 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. "No von," replied the Jew. "It is never too late. But when they were on their way out he whispered in Anna’s ear. I can see the whole thing was just a set-up for sequels, though. Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock.
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