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Bagerly, yet timidly, he approached or the young lady playthe young man arose.ced before. Then youhe said in a low tone. Who are yourmiles tinted across his face. "Listen!" he said,much be played the opening bars of his own sonata inunderstood that no one but the composer of the music could haveYou are Beethoven she exclaimed. Beethoven rose to u but theyAmarthe harpsichord. The moon shone brightly through theTouching the keys lightly, he began to play a sad and lovely melythoughtfully at the sky and stars, he said. "I will composeas the soft moonlight creeps over the dark earthtimidly shyto more-only onceentstasked Beethovenevenings, her windowsgentlythe nomasharpsichord and began to playplay music by rememberingthan by reading must sheetsand tasteadDitted: here, he middly and quidoff as it burned |
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