Then woke a lively melody, changing to the prayer of some soul too grateful to find words.

Next came a bar or two of what seemed calm, lovely speech, then a few slowly delivered chords, and all was still.
She came to herself, and then first knew that, like sleep, the music had seized her unawares, and she had been understanding, or at least enjoying, without knowing it.

The man was approaching her from his dark corner.

His face was shining, but plainly he did not intend more music, for his violin was already under his arm.

He made her a little awkward bow--not much more than a nod, and turned to the door.