The violin
belongs to Italy. It was the glory of Cremona, was it not? The tender
hands of the Amatis, of Josef Guarnerius, of old Antonio Stradivari,
placed a soul within the wooden box; and that soul is the soul of
Italy!"
"Haupt, a German, wrote a treatise on the violin," said Ashton-Kirk.
"If you would read that--"
"I have read it," cried Spatola. "I have read it! It is like that,"
and he snapped his fingers impatiently.
"But you've probably read a translation in the English or Italian,"
insisted the investigator, smoothly. "And all translations lose
something of their vitality, you know."
"I have read it in the German," declared the Italian; "in his own
language, just as he wrote it. It is nothing."
Pendleton looked at Ashton-Kirk admiringly; the manner in which his
friend had established the fact that Spatola knew the German language
seemed to him very clever. But Ashton-Kirk made no sign other than
that of interest in the subject upon which they talked.
"A race that has given the world such musicians as Wagner, Beethoven
and Mozart," said he, "must possess in a tremendous degree the musical
sense. The German knowledge of tone and its combinations is
extraordinary; and their music in turn is as complex as their
psychology and as simple as the improvisation of a child.
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