The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. 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 tall, blond boys, right?” “That’s them. She began to tremble violently. “I had a visit from Sir John in my rooms,” she said.
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