I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. 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. " "I do not doubt it," returned Jack; "none but those who have experienced it can understand the miseries of imprisonment. “Pellissier,” she repeated thoughtfully. "I believe I'll tear them up. . “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion.
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