October 1707
Venice“It shouldn't be so difficult,” I heard as I walked past the girls' music room. I was on another inspection of L'Ospedale and found myself once more drawn to the place where the girls were being trained.
The voice was that of Antonio; I knew it well. Although the comment seemed critical, I detected a lilting note of sarcasm in it, even before I turned toward my right and slipped in through the open doorway.
Antonio was standing behind one of the older girls, wrapping his arms around her, and he held his hands over hers on the violin, one holding the neck of the instrument; the other gripping the bow lightly between her fingers. Antonio's arms were not long and his position forced him to stand very close to the girl from behind. To reach the same position as her hands
