Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. I finally got my own set of house keys when I turned eleven. ‘But if you must fight so furiously, I don’t see how I can promise not to do it again.
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