“I can see you and Anna groaning and nodding your grave heads together. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Never! And they don’t know it! They have no idea of it. A few bricks, dislodged probably by his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room. “Everything goes on, confound it! One doesn’t change anything one has set going by making good resolutions.
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