Down at his place in Leicestershire, he tells me, when there 's company, he has--I'm sure you sing beautifully.

When I hear beautiful singing, even from a woman they tell tales of, upon my word, it's true, I feel my sins all melting out of me and I'm new-made: I can't bear Ned to speak.

Would you one day, one afternoon, before the end of next week ?--it would do me such real good, you can't guess how much; if I could persuade you! I know I'm asking something out of rules.
For just half an hour: I judge by your voice in talking.

Oh! it would do me good-good-good to hear you sing.

There is a tuned piano--a cottage; I don't think it sounds badly.