“David Courtlaw!” she repeated. “To me it seems serious enough. 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. When the bell rang, she lagged behind as was her habit. Socks and shoes were harder to find, and she ended up wearing men’s athletic tube socks and a pair of dust caked flip-flops that had sat forlornly in Locker 49 since 1978. ’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness.
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