The Bach Cantata was played fairly well, Sebastian thought, for a lot of children. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. “My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. You are aware that Martin Chen has a crush on me; I think the whole school is painfully aware, but he’s harmless. She could not help but swoon a little. “Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. “I think,” he said, “that I am right.
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