His hand rested heavily
and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. There was a
mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from
a child's violin. We'll have
him on his way before many days. Melusine came back to the present to discover that tears were rolling down her
cheeks. A married man!—the kind I've never been able to lure down there! But
keep your temper in check. ”
“And our destinations also, it seems,” she added, smiling. Very well! I will try to help you. The
rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. ’
‘Pah!’
‘Precisely. She was practicing with them on
that very day, and displaced a rather mediocre boy
violinist who claimed “to be better at the viola anyway” as
first chair. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man?
Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift?
But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah,
but that had been after he had played for her. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a
164
fiddle if there is one around. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since long ago he
had, in spite of her mother’s protest in the background, carried her kicking and
squalling to the nursery for some forgotten crime. While there's life there's hope.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 02-07-2024 06:51:12