“Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. Sebastian was always a man who felt the need to surround himself with the trappings of the finer life. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. "I could almost forgive the wretch the injury he did me in depriving me of my poor dear wife—No, not quite that," he added, a little confused. I’ll mention it. Wood hadn't struck me. He could not doubt it. 75 “Lucy’s going to Prom with John Diedermayer?” Cathy nodded emphatically.
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