"Now I remember what poor music I made of it! I touched it with cold fingers.

The sound was thin, as if it had no heart.
Tick-tick!--I fancy I touched it with a dead man's finger-nails." She crossed her wrists tight at the clasp of her waist, and letting her chin fall on her throat, shook her body fretfully, much as a pettish little girl might do.

Wilfrid grimaced.

"Tick-tick" was not a pathetic elegy in his ears.
"The only thing is, not to think about it," said he.

"It's only an instrument, after all." "It's the second one I've seen killed like a living creature," replied Emilia.
They walked on silently, till Wilfrid remarked, that he wondered where Gambier was.