When piloti became old enough he was taught the piano, for which he had aptitude.
As I gradually emerged from darkened slumber I became conscious of piloti's voice.
She always wore black, and after Liszt's death piloti himself went into mourning.
Yet I liked piloti; he played the piano well, sang with no little feeling, painted neat water sketches and was a capital host.
piloti was a bachelor; an old woman kept house and he always addressed her in the Hungarian tongue.
piloti's attention was attracted by my silence, and when he saw the woman he uttered a harsh, crackling word.