When Vinzi entered the room he glanced quickly at the clock. “I know exactly how high the sun must be when I leave,” he said with satisfaction. “It is just ten minutes after two.”
“Let’s start in now,” Alida proposed. “First, I’ll tell you what the notes are called, and next, which of the keys one has to play on. After that you can begin.”
She took up a little sheet of music and began to teach him. As Alida did not care to linger long over anything her instruction was rather hurried. But Vinzi had so attentively followed every word and had comprehended her so quickly, that his teacher proceeded as rapidly as she had wished.
“I’ll show you the keys now. As soon as you play a bit you’ll get to know the notes better,” she said. Reading the notes to him had begun to seem extremely tiresome.
As she taught him the keys, Alida played them too in order to make the lesson more vivid.
Vinzi could not help wondering profoundly.
“How is the music made?” he asked suddenly.
“It is already made and printed in the book, from which we can read and play it,” answered Alida.
“But hasn’t somebody made it up before others can play it?” asked Vinzi modestly. “Don’t you think that one could write down tunes one hears inside one’s head, if one only knew how? Then one could play it all on the piano.”
“But that’s not a bit necessary. I am quite sure that enough music has been written already,” Alida said, glancing with a deep sigh at the large book in which were printed all the exercises she had to learn.