As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms. It’s so different from what one has been led to expect. 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. " "Have I ever broken my word in such matters, that he dares put the question?" rejoined Jonathan sternly. Silly, isn’t it? Undisciplined.
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