She follows him back to the piano.  She watches him sit down and start playing.  The sounds he brings from the piano were so sad and sweet that she feels the tears threaten again, but just as they are about to win, the song changes tone just enough to keep the tears at bay.  She walks over to the violin and caresses the instrument as he plays the piano.  She doesn't remember ever touching the thing, but at the right moment, she closes her eyes and the bow slides over the strings.  Her music sounds as if it were a part of their song.  The long sorrowed singing of the small instrument complimented his keywork perfectly.  It is as if they played it together many times.  And yet, she didn't know the song at all.  The juxtaposition of these two lives fighting for cohesion rends upon her heart and mind.  The song ends and she sets down the violin as if she had been violated.  She shrinks into herself staring at the instrument as if it had betrayed her.  She can't seem to pull herself away.  "I wrote about that."  Her words sounding scared, angry, pained and indignant.  "It is as if someone raped my soul."  She looks up to him to see if he feels the same.