Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. ‘That little kiss cost him his sanctuary, my girl, and don’t you forget it. He perceived, however, that both the novels he read and the world he lived in discountenanced these assumptions. 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. Then a servant girl brought in a telegram. E. She confronted him with his own double-standard.
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