" "Piano-player? Do you mean someone who plays for you?" "No, no; one of those mechanical things you play with your feet. Fortescue raised his eyebrows and assumed a light-comedy expression. ’ ‘Ah, non?’ Her voice was neutral. She was not altogether surprised when she found a deer, gutted of its entrails and strung with a garland of flowers, on the cave’s doorstep one humid summer morning. For a moment he did not recognize Annabel. "I've a good deal to do. ‘Alors, I see how is this. 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. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer.
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