She had something of the feeling a Hindoo must experience who has been into surroundings or touched something that offends his caste. They then swiftly mounted the stairs, and stopped before the audience-chamber. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. 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.
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