” She blushed deeply. It had been part of her wedding trousseau, a gift from her family to his. “I can’t conceive what you want. “I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. 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. The young ladies in the somewhat mixed society amongst which he moved neither satisfied his taste nor appealed in any way to his affections. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. ’ ‘But he gives them to me. However, it don't signify.
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