I weep for you who were not present, because you must depend upon the faint notes of my fair words to hear the epiphany that resounded in those rooms. If her playing was a quarrel, her voice was a perfect reconciliation. She sang like a mermaid. Her voice enticed the deserters back from the cloakroom. It made men recant their excuses and women cancel their good-night kisses. They flocked to this mermaid like doomed sailors, and the ship of our evening was dashed upon her song.
