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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Evelyn Innes, by George Moore This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Evelyn Innes Author: George Moore Release Date: August 17, 2004 [EBook #13201] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EVELYN INNES *** Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Josephine Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. BENN'S ESSEX LIBRARY _Edited by Edward G. Hawke, M.A._ EVELYN INNES GEORGE MOORE _First published_ 1898 _Reprinted (Essex Library_) 1929 _To Arthur Symons and W.B. Yeats Two contemporary writers with whom I am in sympathy_ CHAPTER ONE The thin winter day had died early, and at four o'clock it was dark night in the long room in which Mr. Innes gave his concerts of early music. An Elizabethan virginal had come to him to be repaired, and he had worked all the afternoon, and when overtaken by the dusk, he had impatiently sought a candle end, lit it, and placed it so that its light fell upon the jacks.... Only one more remained to be adjusted. He picked it up, touched the quill and dropped it into its place, rapidly tuned the instrument, and ran his fingers over the keys. Iron-grey hair hung in thick locks over his forehead, and, shining through their shadows, his eyes drew attention from the rest of his face, so that none noticed at first the small and firmly cut nose, nor the scanty growth of beard twisted to a point by a movement habitual to the weak, white hand. His face was in his eyes: they reflected the flame of faith and of mission; they were the eyes of one whom fate had thrown on an obscure wayside of dreams, the face of a dreamer and propagandist of old-time music and its instruments. He sat at the virginal, like one who loved its old design and sweet tone, in such strict keeping with the music he was playing--a piece by W. Byrd, "John, come kiss me now"--and when it was finished, his fingers strayed into another, "Nancie," by Thomas Morley. His hands moved over the keyboard softly, as if they loved it, and his thoughts, though deep in the gentle music, entertained casual admiration of the sixteenth century organ, which h
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