But he recollected himself and rose to go.

His eye caught sight of the guitar that hung on the wall.
"Ah," he cried suddenly, "music is better than love, for it lasts; let us make music." He dropped his hat and stick and seized the instrument.

In an instant it was tuned and he began to perform the most extraordinary feats of agility with his fingers that I ever beheld.

Some of it was very beautiful, and some of it very sad and wild, but I understood Nino's enthusiasm.

I could have listened to the old guitar in his hands for hours together,--I, who care little for music; and I watched his face.