He knew what he knew. “My Mom never gets a good night’s sleep. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light. ’ ‘Do you take me for a fool, Hilary?’ demanded his betrothed. She was practicing with them on that very day, and displaced a rather mediocre boy violinist who claimed “to be better at the viola anyway” as first chair. And meanwhile, we’ll just have these no doubt potentially lethal little claws of yours out of harm’s way.
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