I saw her come out from the flat buildings two minutes before we entered it last night. 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. ’ ‘This, monsieur le major, is entirely your own affair,’ said the lady, haughty again. Too many. Drink the toast, Jack. ” He shook her diminutive hand. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce.
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