She wasn’t a plainly dressed secretary … she looked like I. Magnin and smelled like Neiman Marcus, and it occurred to me that perhaps I was follow...ng the wrong career path. The hall was furnished with antique paintings and a central mahogany table complete with a fresh bouquet of flowers reaching at least my height. The polished hardwood floors would have announced our arrival all by themselves if it had not been for the plush oriental runner, and I paused to admire one of the pastoral scenes. I was led back to the bed where clothes were laid out.Then I was led to a room with a piano and left alone. I played the pianofor a long time, soft jazz tunes and blues, nothing complicated, verycomforting. Then I got tired and hungry. The room with the table had foodagain and I ate. I undressed and went to sleep. This went on for manydays. The music was all the company I had. Somehow I was fed and clothed.Gradually I got comfortable. My playing got deeper and moreintrospective.Then the girl. More

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