There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. 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. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. "And now, having got rid of the minor obstacles," said Jonathan, "I'll submit a plan for the removal of the main difficulty. You cannot depart hence. Keep a sharp look out, Austin, and see that we lose no one else.
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