Nothing is wrong with you, Gideon! Do you hear me? Nothing isfucking wrong with you! I got out as well, and we faced each other over the bonnet of the car. It's something to think about: what happens tothe parents' lives when they discover they've produced a genius. Last night you saw it. Moreappropriately garbed for the November chill, she set out again into thecold, damp morning.
If nothing else, it's how I support myself. Andyours isn't about your violin. How could you? That last especially seemed to reverberate round hisskull like an echo with a killing sense of irony. But I'm not waiting for the shoe polish routine to bedone.
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