Ethel Watts Mumford

“ His dress was that of the poorest native; but no native would have been affected by that song. Boyd played the Chorus to the end, then drifted off through chord after chord, trying old, familiar melodies. He played "Home, Sweet Home," "Die Wacht am Rhine," "Santa Lucia." The man showed no recognition, but the haunting look of soul starvation in his face deepened to agony.
Under that peasant's dress surely lay a mystery. Boyd became keen to discover it. Could he but touch with his music the hidden chord of feeling, the stranger would reveal himself. ”

“ The Fear was with him always, though its cause had after a time vanished from his clouded mind. Only one longing, one need, remained clear and persistent—music! He strung a samisen to a European scale, and worked with the koto, but their tinklings were a poor solace. ”

“ Pentanoff rose. "I'll come back in the morning," he said, "to talk over what we had best do. Leave the poor devil where he is; let him alone—I've made him comfortable, and he'll sleep for twenty-four hours at least."
Bidding his friend good-night, Boyd went to his room and to bed, falling into a heavy doze, from which he suddenly awoke. He was sitting bolt upright in his bed, startled. He was sure he had heard some strange noise. It came again—three great chords on the piano!. ”

“ October came, and with it return to Yokohama and business interests. "Must" is a cruel mistress. At last goods and chattels were packed and crated, the piano sent coastward—and Boyd slept his last night in the dismantled house. ”