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The fire still burned brightly. She attended to that, and then dismissed it as unimportant. Cathy stood in the bedroom hallway in her faded blue bathrobe. One of those hanging moments ensued— hypnotic. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. ‘Dreadfully untidy, is it not? Can’t abide bare rooms. 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. Upon this, Jack earnestly and eloquently addressed himself to the bench, and besought that a petition which he had prepared to be laid before the King might be read. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. It wound around a small manufactured lake. Later, when the Reverend Henry Dolby entered the Spurlock room, his wife and daughter trailing amusedly behind him, and beheld the strained eagerness on the two young faces, he smiled inwardly and indulgently. ’ She turned her head, eyes blazing.

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