Capitolo 89
the genealogy of the family that is careful.
There was not any great fundamental community of affairs among the
young intelligent journalist and his/her companion of embankment. A common love for
music was the principal obligation of union among the two men. He/she anchors Montague
Nevitt practiced on Guy a strange and fatal charm that
Cyril always found positively inexplicable. And on this detail
evening, as it was standing Nevitt, while rippling himself/herself/itself before and back on the hearth-carpet
in front of the empty grille, with his/her eyes closed mean, drawing low,
strange music with his/her arc enchanted by those subdued sequences Guy,
him tilted again on the sofa and he/she listened, entranced, with a without hope
never hearing some absolute inability to draw near the magician-as
and supreme execution of that magistral hand and those superhuman
fingers. As he twisted and it turned them as if its bones were
Indian-covers of rubber. Its palms were all the joints and its eyes every ecstasy.
He seemed able to do what it liked with his/her violin. He played on
his/her tool, indeed as him it played on Guy--with the suits
art of a skilled executant.
"That is marvellous, Nevitt" out which Guy has finally broken; "it never felt
also same Sarasate ago anything rather so wild and strange as that.
Has the piece called what? It seems to almost have anything mischievous
or elf-as in his/her music of complaint. It is Hungarian, clearly, or
Polish or Greek; Me suffered I discover the Oriental aroma in him."
"Offends once for, my dear boy", Nevitt responded, while smiling, "it is
The English English, pure, and from a lady what is more--one of the Eweses
of Kenilworth. You are a distant relationship of the Girl of Cyril Clifford,
I believe. An Elma, also; name works in the family. But she composes
marvelously. What she writes is in that mystical key. It plays
as a reminiscence of some dark and lamp-turned on oriental temple. The
kind of thing a bo of strength of nautch-girl they imagined to compose to sing,
to the clash and din of cymbals, while she was completing the