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I can't keep a good man beyond three pay-days. Under his arm he carried a thick, knotted crab-stick. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral. “I suppose my levity is incorrigible. “I did,” Anna answered. 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.
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