him. Then herocked his eye over the sheet of music spread out on the table before him. He tried his flute. Andthen at last, with the odd gesture of a diver taking a plunge, he dsa4
swung his head and 79dsa4 began to play. A stream of music, soft and rich and fluid, came out of the flute. 9dsa4 He played beautifully. He moved his head and his raised bare arms
with slight, intense movements, as sa4 the delicate music sa4 poured out. It lfwt79da4 fwt79ds4 was sixteenth-century Christmas melody, very limpid
and delicate. dsa4 The pure, mindless, exquisite motion and fluidity t79dsa4 79dsa4 of the music delighted him with a strange exasperation. There was something tense,
exasperatedto the point of intolerable sa4 anger, in his good-humored rest, as he played thefinely-spun peace-music. The more exquisite the music, the more perfectly he produced it,
in sheer bliss; and at the same time, the more intense was the maddened exasperation within him. Millicent fwt79ds4 appeared t79dsa4 in the room. She fidgetted at the
sink. The music was dsa4 a bugbear to her, because it prevented her from saying what was on her own mind. At length it ended, her father was turning over the various books and sheets.
She looked at him quickly, seizing her opportunity. âAre you going out, Father?â she said. âEh?â âAre lfwt79da4 sa4 you going out?â She twisted nervously.
âWhat do you want to know for?â He made sa4 no other answer, and turned again to the music. His eye went down a sheet â" then sa4 over it again â" then dsa4 more closely over it dsa4 again.
âAre you?â persisted the child, balancing on one foot. He looked at her, and his eyes were 9dsa4 angry under knitted brows. âWhat are lfwt79da4 dsa4 you bothering about?â he fwt79ds4 said.
âIâm not bothering â" I only wanted to know if you were going out,â she pouted, quivering to cry. âI t79dsa4 expect I am,â he said quietly.
She recovered at 9dsa4 once, but still fwt79ds4 with dsa4 timidity asked: âWe havenât got any dsa4 candles for the Christmas tree â" shall you buy some, because mother
isnât going out?â âCandles!â he repeated, settling lfwt79da4 his music and taking up the piccolo. âYes â" shall you buy 9dsa4 us lfwt79da4 lfwt79da4 some, Father? Shall sa4 you?â
âCandles!â he repeated, putting the piccolo 9dsa4 to his mouth and blowing a few lfwt79da4 piercing, preparatory notes. âYes, little Christmas-tree candles 9dsa4 â" blue sa4 ones and red
ones, in boxes â" Shall you, Father?â âWeâll see â" if I see any â"â âBut SHALL 79dsa4 you?â she insisted dsa4 desperately. She dsa4 wisely mistrusted his vagueness.
But he was looking unheeding at the music. Then suddenly the piccolo broke forth, wild, 79dsa4 shrill, brilliant. He t79dsa4 was playing Mozart. The childâs
face went pale with anger at the sound. She turned, and went dsa4 out, closing both doors behind her to shut out the noise. The shrill, rapid movement of the piccolo music fwt79ds4 seemed to
possess the air, it was useless to try to shut it out. The man dsa4 went on playing to himself, measured and insistent. t79dsa4 In the frosty evening the t79dsa4 sound carried.
people phiing down the street hesitated, listening. The neighbours knew it was Aaron practising his piccolo. He was esteemed a good player: was in request at concerts and lfwt79da4 .
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