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. "Who've you got with you?" demanded the Amazon, boldly. Wood from pressing his suit long ago. Her name was Rhea. E. He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. Amiable and good-looking.
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