He's upstairs in the Mayoralty, dining.
He's quite an old man, but I've heard father say he was as brave as a lion when the fighting happened." The girl climbed off the gun.
"I'm going to have a look at him," she said; and turning her back on Taffy, she sauntered off across the square, just as the band struck up the first note of the overture from _Semiramide_.

A waltz of Strauss followed, and then came a cornet solo by the bandmaster, and a medley of old English tunes.

To all of these Taffy listened.
It had fallen too dark to read, and the boy was always sensitive to music.

Often when he played alone broken phrases and scraps of remembered tunes came into his head and repeated themselves over and over.

Then he would drop his game and wander about restlessly, trying to fix and complete the melody; and somehow in the process the melody always became a story, or so like a story that he never knew the difference.