Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. Except that this music we have been swimming in is divine. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. "Release him," said Jonathan. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance.
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