He was remarkably susceptible to music.

It was like strong drink, firing him to audacities of feeling,--a drug that laid hold of his imagination and went cloud-soaring through the sky.

It banished sordid fact, flooded his mind with beauty, loosed romance and to its heels added wings.

He did not understand the music she played.

It was different from the dance-hall piano-banging and blatant brass bands he had heard.