He seemed inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. You can trust me, Anna. 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. " "Never fear," replied Jack.
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