But you shall swing, rascal,—you shall swing. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. ’ Tears glistened in her eyes. "See how glad he is!" His irony and displeasure subsided. 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. "A doctor? What he needs is a good jolt of aromatic spirits of ammonia.
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