Сумерки

           "Doyouplay?"sheasked,incliningherheadtowardthepiano.

           Ishookmyhead."Notatall.Butit’ssobeautiful.Isityours?"

           "No,"shelaughed."Edwarddidn’ttellyouhewasmusical?"

           "No."Iglaredathissuddenlyinnocentexpressionwithnarrowedeyes."Ishouldhaveknown,Iguess."

           Esmeraisedherdelicateeyebrowsinconfusion.

           "Edwardcandoeverything,right?"Iexplained.

           JaspersnickeredandEsmegaveEdwardareprovinglook.

           "Ihopeyouhaven’tbeenshowingoff-it’srude,"shescolded.

           "Justabit,"helaughedfreely.Herfacesoftenedatthesound,andtheysharedabrieflookthatIdidn’tunderstand,thoughEsme’sfaceseemedalmostsmug.

           "He’sbeentoomodest,actually,"Icorrected.

           "Well,playforher,"Esmeencouraged.

           "Youjustsaidshowingoffwasrude,"heobjected.

           "Thereareexceptionstoeveryrule,"shereplied.

           "I’dliketohearyouplay,"Ivolunteered.

           "It’ssettledthen."Esmepushedhimtowardthepiano.Hepulledmealong,sittingmeonthebenchbesidehim.

           Hegavemealong,exasperatedlookbeforeheturnedtothekeys.

           Andthenhisfingersflowedswiftlyacrosstheivory,andtheroomwasfilledwithacompositionsocomplex,soluxuriant,itwasimpossibletobelieveonlyonesetofhandsplayed.Ifeltmychindrop,mymouthopeninastonishment,andheardlowchucklesbehindmeatmyreaction.

           Edwardlookedatmecasually,themusicstillsurgingarounduswithoutabreak,andwinked."Doyoulikeit?"

           "Youwrotethis?"Igasped,understanding.

           Henodded."It’sEsme’sfavorite."