Chapter 22: Dvorak

In the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things, the heart finds its morning and is refreshed. - Kahlil Gibran

The office is quiet. Strolling up to the cylinder bookcase, I eye the instruments on the wall. The hourglass-like shape of each violin is distinct. An ebony fingerboard delicately lines the maple neck of each priceless piece of work.

They all have a hand-carved grafted scroll between the pegbox and neck that rests at a slightly increased angle. The soul post fits like a well-fitted glove between the back and top, just below the treble foot of the bridge.

My gaze casts downward to the hard black leather case with the Stradivarius label. I slide my fingertips across the smooth, cool dark surface. My hands glide down to the front side of the case.