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The music of the falls reached it, and the road was only about quarter of a mile across the fields to the north, but apparently it was completely isolated. "I'd like to put a poet in there," Helen said, "or a musician. Wasn't it Rubenstein, Kit, who used to take his violin and play the music of the rain and falling water?" "Ask me not, child, ask me not," returned Kit, practically.
Rubenstein to save me a box for the evenin' show." "I hear your father's come home," the friend insinuated. "Yes," Mrs. Egg drawled, "and ain't feelin' well and don't need comp'ny. Be obliged if you'd tell folks that. He's kind of sickly. So they've got Dammy in a picture. It's about time!" The tremor ran down her back. She said "Good-night, dearie," and rang off.
Then a white patch in the darkened wood over the mantelpiece caught his eye. 'Why, your marriage certificate is gone too! 'Yes, I have taken it down. 'To give to the widow Rubenstein? 'What an idea! said his grandmother seriously. 'It is in the bundle. 'You are sending it away to Palestine?
I think you will all agree with me that we cannot allow our friend, who has provided us with amusement for so many nights, to run the risk of a loss like this. Begin with me, Mr. Rubenstein. No I insist upon it. You know me better than most of your clients, I think; but I submit myself voluntarily to be searched." "I thank you very much indeed, sir," Mr. Rubenstein declared quickly.
'Quite as much, she answered sweetly, and then they talked of Raff, and Rubenstein, and Henselt, and all the composers about whom it is the correct thing to discourse nowadays. Before they left Belgrave Square Lady Kirkbank had offered Mr. Smithson Sir George's place in her box at the Gaiety that evening, and had invited him to supper in Arlington Street afterwards.
And now Diaz was coming down to give a pianoforte recital in the Jubilee Hall at Hanbridge; Diaz, the darling of European capitals; Diaz, whose name in seven years had grown legendary; Diaz, the Liszt and the Rubenstein of my generation, and the greatest interpreter of Chopin since Chopin died Diaz! Diaz! No such concert had ever been announced in the Five Towns, and I was to miss it!
At last, having finished the beer, Hayward left Weeks' room hot and dishevelled; with an angry gesture he said to Philip: "Of course the man's a pedant. He has no real feeling for beauty. Accuracy is the virtue of clerks. It's the spirit of the Greeks that we aim at. Weeks is like that fellow who went to hear Rubenstein and complained that he played false notes. False notes!
Her parents did not know what had become of her. Afterwards she studied counterpoint and harmony with Rubenstein in St. Petersburg, and also with Von Bulow in Leipsic. But she had given up music for journalism. Her specialty was musical criticism, to which, having been thrown a good deal with artists, she had added art criticism.
Sergia had whispered a word here and there as she left the room. It made its way back through the crowd "A friend of Mademoiselle Lvova's a sea-captain. She has brought him to hear the MacDowell pieces." The audience smiled and relaxed. The music was beginning. Two young girls played a concerto from Rubenstein, with scared, flying fingers.
'Yes, it is going to the Land of Israel, she said. As the artist lifted his eyes from the two amorphous heaps on the floor Yossel and his bundle he became aware of a blank in the familiar interior. 'Why, where is the spinning-wheel? he cried. 'I have given it to the widow Rubenstein I shall spin no more. 'And I thought of painting you as a spinster! he murmured dolefully.
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