If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. 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. He seemed to avoid meeting Anna’s eyes as much as possible. Miss Miniver looked over her glasses at her friend almost balefully.
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