” “You need help, Luce. Neither their mother nor Sebastian noticed, as certain members of the house had taken to avoiding each other. Were it not for your voice, I don't think I should know you. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted. No one will ever love you as I love you now. ” “It was an inspiration—your speaking to him?” “I felt impudent.
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