“You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. ” Ennison laughed softly. F. I've tried the plan, and found it answer. She looked at the suitcase sadly and stashed it underneath her bed. “They ought to have been lopped in the spring. 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 Mother Abbess, while thankful, could not be brought to consent to allow the girl out of her charge alone with unknown servants, and Martha was delegated to accompany her erstwhile nurseling to the homeland she had thought never to see again. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely.
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