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Lucia sat in a high chair near the piano, with her chin in her hand, tremendously erect. Georgie took off his rings and laid them on the candle-bracket, and ran his hands nimbly over the piano. "Poissons d'or," he said. "Goldfish!" "Yes; Pesci d'oro," said Lucia, explaining it to Peppino. Lucia's face changed as the elusive music proceeded.
A tin can made his candle-bracket on the wall, axe-hewn planks formed a table and a bench, and diagonally across a corner he had built his fireplace of stones from the lakeside. He had a simple method of constructing a chimney; he merely left without a roof that corner of the cabin and placed slanting boards in it. He had made a crane, too, which swung out over the fireplace.
He went over to the piano and they sang a part song, "Oh, who will o'er the downs so free?" Their voices went well enough together, but they broke down. The more they tried to forget the past the more they remembered it. He twiddled the backs of his fingertips over the keyboard; she swung on one foot and held to the candle-bracket while they talked of Pete.
"I think you were marvellously brave, Georgie," said she, "and most good natured. You must have been sending out love, and so were full of it yourself, and that casts out fear." She spread the music open. "Anything else?" she asked. Georgie took his seat and put his rings on the candle-bracket.
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