Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. ’ The woman shrugged helpless shoulders, looking to her husband. "What shall I do? If I persist, I shall destroy her. However, it doesn't much signify.
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