The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication. Just as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard— where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the rustic graves—a momentary stoppage took place. The perception of him flooded her being. “John,” she said, “I am afraid that I am going to make you unhappy. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. There would be no way of keeping her police questioning a secret from the entire neighborhood.
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