He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. There’s a great gulf opened, and nobody’s got any plans what to do with us. He was so depressed and disheartened that he did not then believe he would ever write again. In a few seconds, the shutter flew open,—then the window,—and they were in the room. I did not know that you had even 244 started writing a symphony. Wood,—the person whom you may remember adopted him,—at Dollis Hill, near Willesden; and it's a singular but fortunate circumstance, so far as we are concerned, that Mrs. Her voice recalled him. ‘If you had met her, you’d understand.
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