She then drew her bow, and threw on the air a haunting strain.
"Stop there, little spirit.

It is beautiful.

But what made it beautiful ?" "My bow--don't you see ?" Gretchen drew her bow, and again lifted the same haunting air.
"No--no--my girl--not the bow--something behind the bow." "The strings ?" "No--no--something behind the strings." "My fingers--so ?" "No--no--something behind the fingers." "My head--_here_ ?" "No--something behind that." "My heart ?" "No--no--something behind that." "I ?" "Yes--you, but something behind that.

I have not seen it, my girl--your spirit.

It is that that makes the music; but there is something behind that.