Maya:
Sorry to disturb you, Mr Cole. Could I ask you for your autograph? I was at the concert last night.
Henry Cole:
Magnificent!
Maya:
I drove all the way from Boston.
Henry Cole:
Oh, you didn't yave to drive all that way. I'll be playing in Boston a week from now.
Maya:
I know, I'm taking my son.
Henry Cole:
Ah. Well, that automatically qualifies you for an autograph. What's your name?
Maya:
Maya. But it's not for me, it's for my son. Daniel.
Henry Cole:
Uh-uh. How old is he?
Maya:
Twelve. Music is everything to him. I mean, it's all he cares about.
Henry Cole:
Tell you what, bring him backstage after the recital next week. I'll sign it for him then.
Maya:
Really? He has a poster of you in his room, you know.
Henry Cole:
A poster.
Maya:
Yeah.
Henry Cole:
I hope it doesn't give him nightmares.
Maya:
[admiring the flowers sent by Helen]
You should put those in water.
Henry Cole:
Yes, I should.
[pause]

Henry Cole:
Maya...
Maya:
Yes.
Henry Cole:
Did you really enjoy the recital?
Maya:
[perplexed, softly emphatic]
Of course!
Henry Cole:
[humbly]
Thank you.
Maya:
Thank you.
[smiles, turns and exits]
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 08:36

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