He was perhaps forty-five years of age. Almost light-heartedly. “Dear friend,” she said, “remember that you are speaking to one who has failed in the only serious object which she has ever sought to accomplish. I’m not to study, I’m not to grow. 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. I don’t want to stop your singing. You can’t! I tell you frankly you may break off your engagement to me—I shall hold myself still engaged to you, yours just the same. But I do not know you at all, in truth, and I do not understand why you do this. He did his best not to grin. I take it, down where we're going will be nothing new to you.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjExNy4xODguMzQgLSAyMS0wNy0yMDI0IDEwOjQ4OjM3IC0gOTM2Mzg3NzI4
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