nasal wail, leaving a sudden hiatus here, and giving there a long,
lingering scream on some mere passing note.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Truesdale, "this won't do at all. Here, signor
organista, just set that thing back, will you, and we'll start again."


"Why, oh why do I strive in vain to hate thee?"


More notes shattered themselves on the stone walls about him--singly,
in bunches, in long, detached wails. The organ yelped and snarled as
Truesdale, time routed and accent annihilated, abandoned himself to the
expression and the phrasing of the true Italian school. Two or three
passing children paused on the pavement; a park policeman, stationed on
the next corner, walked his sedate iron-gray slowly along to the point of
disturbance.

Presently the object of all this attention showed herself. Mrs. Rhodes
appeared at the window with that expression of indignant protest which
forecasts an appeal to the authorities. When she saw the offending cause
her indignation did not greatly diminish; she refused to smile even when
Truesdale extended his hat for the usual tribute. He saw her lips move,
however, with a quick exclamation which brought a second person to the
window. Then both immediately withdrew.

"Another niece, I swear!" said Truesdale; "and I've walked right into
it." He gave the man a second dime. "I guess you understand it better
than I do, after all," he said, magnanimously.