"Still," went on the manager, "they are slaves in a sense; they are bought and sold until their original indebtedness is paid. The tall, blond boys, right?” “That’s them. Gina, the eleven year old, just couldn’t take it and she ran away. Yet even now there were so many things untouched, so much to be learned. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. ” “Right!” he answered. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIxOS4xNTYuMjIgLSAwOS0wNi0yMDI0IDE5OjAxOjUzIC0gMTUzNjgzNjU1Nw==
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