"While I live you are safe," rejoined Trenchard; "after my death I can answer for nothing. Behind the illustrious personages just described marched a troop of stalwart fellows, with white badges in their hats, quarterstaves, oaken cudgels, and links in their hands. “You must play for us again sometime. 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. ” “I am afraid,” she said, preceding him down the narrow stairs, “that I am going to be too busy to have much time for gadding about.
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