It
was raining in a persistent November fashion, and he thought of the
sea, away through the dark and the rain, tossing uneasily. Should
he pay it a visit? He sat for a moment,
This way and that dividing the swift mind,4
when his eye fell on his violin. He had been so full of his new
position and its requirements, that he had not touched it since the
session opened. Now it was just what he wanted. He caught it up
eagerly, and began to play. The power of the music seized upon him,
and he went on playing, forgetful of everything else, till a string
broke. It was all too short for further use. Regardless of the
rain or the depth of darkness to be traversed before he could find a
music-shop, he caught up his cap, and went to rush from the house.
His door opened immediately on the top step of the stair, without
any landing. There was a door opposite, to which likewise a few
steps led immediately up. The stairs from the two doors united a
little below. So near were the doors that one might stride across
the fork. The opposite door was open, and in it stood Eric Ericson.
CHAPTER VII.
ERIC ERICSON.
Robert sprang across the dividing chasm, clasped Ericson's hand in
both of his, looked up into his face, and stood speechless. Ericson
returned the salute with a still kindness--tender and still. His
face was like a gray morning sky of summer from whose level
cloud-fields rain will fall before noon.
Pages:
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331