She'd make a good wife for the cashier.

And the musician woman! I don't care how nimble her fingers are, how perfect her technique, how wonderful her expression--the fact is, she knows nothing about music." "She plays beautifully," Ruth protested.
"Yes, she's undoubtedly gymnastic in the externals of music, but the intrinsic spirit of music is unguessed by her.

I asked her what music meant to her--you know I'm always curious to know that particular thing; and she did not know what it meant to her, except that she adored it, that it was the greatest of the arts, and that it meant more than life to her." "You were making them talk shop," Ruth charged him.
"I confess it.

And if they were failures on shop, imagine my sufferings if they had discoursed on other subjects.

Why, I used to think that up here, where all the advantages of culture were enjoyed--" He paused for a moment, and watched the youthful shade of himself, in stiff-rim and square-cut, enter the door and swagger across the room.