I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. 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. . ” She looked at him with uplifted eyebrows—a look of whimsical incredulity. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken refuge; but I'll ferret him out. She would not let her move. . They could no longer stay in one place. She ran 60 past it with melancholic dread towards the slope that led to the ocean. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. ” “I know,” said Mr Manning, “I know these Dreadful Statistics.
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