"Ach!—and why do you like pretty tunes?"
Nigel stared at him full of hostility, then his manner changed.
"Because they remind me of—of things I used to feel."
He realised dimly that there was a subtle free-masonry between him and this man. In a way it drew them together, in a way it held them apart.
"What you used to feel. So! that is better. It's your heart they tickle, not your ears."
Furlonger nodded.
"Do you play for your living?"
"No—I am a farmer."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I play for children to dance."