Max was right. The concerto bore no resemblance to the atonal cacophony of Or’s chamber music. The composer had returned to the folk music of Jewish Eastern Europe to find her themes. The music, forgotten for five decades, came to life in fits and starts as cello and oboe made tentative passes at each other. For a few poignant minutes they seemed to find each other in a measured antiphon. The harmony shattered abruptly as antiphon turned to antagonism. The instruments fought so fiercely that I could feel sweat on my temples. They built to a frantic climax and broke off. Even this nonmusical audience could hold its breath when they paused at that peak. Then the cello chased the oboe from terror to peace, but a horrible peace, for it was the repose of death. I gripped Lotty’s hand, not making any pretense of dashing away my tears. Neither of us could join in the applause.

Michael and Or’ bowed briefly and disappeared from the stage. Although the clapping continued for some minutes, with more enthusiasm than had greeted the Don Quixote Variations, the response lacked the vital spark that would have shown they’d got the point. The musicians didn’t return, but sent out the children’s choir for the set that concluded the concert.

Like Lotty, Max had been shaken by his son’s recital. I offered to get the car at once, but they felt they had to stay for the reception.

“Since it’s in Theresz’s honor, it would look strange if Max wasn’t there, especially as Michael is his son,” Lotty said. “If you want to leave, though, Vic, we can take a cab home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I’ll keep an eye out for you—you give me a signal when you’re ready to go.”

“But you might see Dick again—could you stand the excitement?” Lotty strove to steady herself with sarcasm.

I kissed her cheek. “I’ll manage.”

That was the last I saw of her for some time. The minute the concert ended a crush of people poured into the stairwells. When Max, Lotty, and I finally struggled into the upper foyer, we were immediately separated by the throng. Instead of fighting my way through the mob to rejoin them I went to the balustrade and tried following their progress. It was hopeless: Max tops Lotty’s five feet by only a few inches. I lost sight of them within seconds of their reaching the main floor.