quot;But you cant tell my ;

    ors.

    Over dinner, I told tess about to o go back to t. On Monday afternoon, s beloening for t  t off on er s, Fat;I ; o follo. I suspected t icipation greed a o top of a rickety desk.  off the box.

    Instead of ts I ed, I saer score of music for t just common  symper gave life and presence to trument—a raft of ion, Liszts Battle of tasie Sympis, and a pair of organ-only solos by Guilmant. t, Langlais, Co for Organ, Strings, and timpani. Record albums of Aaron Coplands First Sympoccata Festiva, Runned and inspired. to simply listen to it all—not to mention trying my  take mont a feo stuff my pockets , fill my h song.

    quot;My only vice and passion,quot; o me. quot;Enjoy. e are not so different, you and I. Strange creatures  listen.quot;

    I played all day for Fated old parisisms, o tra octave of bass, and  tante. A c t keyboard, and I began to ions of my oerludes. tirred memories t existed beyond to glorious afternoon I experimented ions and  I forgot about Fatil urned empty- five oclock. Frustrated by o find any records of t St. enceslas, and t in toucs of t. Bart. Klara co he records.

    I  of time. Despite tive freedom, ill in danger of being asked for our papers, and  ted to center on ted at reets. I saoo, running in t spending so much of our honeymoon alone.

    quot;Just one more day,quot; I pleaded. quot;te like t c;

    quot;Okay, but Im staying in today. ouldnt you rato bed?quot;

    t late t