His big voice, powerful and tender, swept into the hush like a splendid bird.
Kenny snapped off the lights, plunged into tragic sadness by the passion of his voice.

Somehow its poignant sweetness hurt.

The droplight over the music and the flare of the fire leaped out of the darkness like medallions.

Faintly from a corner came the whisper of Caesare's violin, offering obligato.
Then he closed his eyes to block but the sight of rain splashing on the window.

Enchanted rain surely! For it transformed the single pane into many, like a checkerboard of glass, and through it he was staring queerly into the farm.
Kreiling mopped his forehead at the end and switched on the lights.
The silence he understood and liked but his keen eyes lingered in surprise on Kenny's face.