When they started getting on each other’s nerves, she blamed herself at first. ‘Is it soft, the way you seize me from behind? Parbleu, my heart it is flown from my chest! Boom, boom, it goes, even now. He just walked in a few minutes ago. 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. Had Gosse taken it as he escaped? What could she do? Gosse now knew that she was the daughter of Mary Remenham.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNi42OS4yNDAgLSAxMC0wNi0yMDI0IDAxOjI0OjIzIC0gMTUwNjI3NDA2Nw==
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