Half an hour later, she heard the unearthly noise of Constable Moore's 
bagpipes emanating from the bamboo grove. In the past he had occasionally 
picked them up and made a few squealing noises, but this was the first time 
she'd heard a formal recital. She was not an expert on the pipes, but she 
thought he sounded not bad. He was playing a slow number, a coronach, and it 
was so sad that it almost tore Nell's heart asunder; the sight of the Constable 
weeping helplessly on his hands and knees was not half so sad as the music he 
was playing now.