The threadbare remainders of the dinner discussion hovered over the topics of obsessive fans of the science fiction and horror genres. Only Leonardo, and then Jack, had shown her that she might be admired. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. ” John said to Lucy. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again.
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