Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. It probably still wouldn’t help. He was alarmed when she returned to the stage and her eyes passed over him in the audience. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry.
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