Won’t you play a little for me? I need to hear the echoing seldom tune.
She had never asked him before with such longing desire.
And so he sat down at once at the piano.
He played somewhat slowly, to make it comprehensible especially to strangers,
He strummed it out in blatant march time.
He didn’t play all the tunes, but the one he knew the best.
He played his beloved masters song.
So slowly that the roused longnig of his listener yearned for the next note.
Which he held back and yielded reluctantly.
He then felt rising within him a song which reached past the end of this song, seeking another end which he could not find.
And when it ended, it shattered the silence around him.
‘I’m no good’ he said to her gazing with tears in his eyes.

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