And don't neglect my instructions this time. She did not speak to John in the week of school left after the Prom. Lucy clasped her hands over her ears as it screamed. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. Wood cut him short by stating his intention of crossing the river as soon as possible in order to avoid the storm. 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. "Here is my purse; and I trust you will let me know to whom I am indebted for this important service. She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude.
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