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” “Thanks for the nice evening, John. Martin came to the stage from his section, his own violin in hand. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. I wish that it worked. Then Gosse spoke again, answering the question in her mind. She could not help but swoon a little. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. It was enough that she witnessed it and could not go to him. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. ’ ‘Why should you care?’ demanded Roding, exasperated. \"Yep.
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