The Mozart question

The Mozart Question

He stood up and walked slowly to the couch by the window. He picked up his violin on his drawn-up knees. He plucked a string or two and tuned it.

« I will tell you a story », he began. « After it is over you will need to ask me no more questions. Someone once told me that all secrets are lies. The time has come, I think, not to lie anymore. »