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The Master of Silence by Irving Bacheller
page 37 of 123 (30%)

"I should think he would have lost the power of speech and
hearing," I remarked.

"No. Music saved them--abstract music. His voice is
wonderful. His hearing is quick. Rayel knows words but not
speech. His mind has command of my knowledge. He has never
seen the world, but he knows about it. I tried to begin my
life anew and to forget the past. But I could not wholly
cleanse my mind of it. Its memories faded slowly. I have
avoided renewing them for his sake."

"He could, then, learn to speak?"

"With ease, and it were better if he could speak now. We
will teach him soon."

As he ceased speaking, fatigued by the unaccustomed effort,
I heard low strains of music echoing through the silent
halls around us. A violin! The tone was deep and tremulous,
gradually growing louder, filling the ear with its message,
and lifting the mind to lofty heights of thought and
passion. We both sat listening for hours, and midnight came
before the last strain died away. That music was like a
strange story that drops its plummet deep into life's
mysteries.

"A new song!" said my uncle, turning to me with surprise on
his face. "He got the subject from you. We shall see."

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