E. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered. 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. Every eye was fixed upon the prisoner. But one changes the style of one's clothes yearly. " There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters.
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