It's a fast-changing world, and I am now the conductor of the city's finest orchestra. No longer the self-deprecating accompanist from such a short while ago. Anne would be proud of me. I do have my suspicions, though, about why she isn't alive. And doubts, too, about something else. But, excuse me a minute. Henry has invited me to his place tomorrow to discuss a matter that he says concerns Annette and Anne. As awkward as it is for me to attend, anything that concerns Anne, the future of Annette is something that concerns me. Excuse me one more time. My love for Anne has never died. Neither has my regret that our affair was only an affair. I had been hoping for so long. And at a time when she was in despair, we started an affair. But the very next week, she met Henry. It was the end of her, the end of me. I'll always regret that. I deeply miss her, her warmth, her voice. I miss Anne. Excuse me. Anne. Anne. Anne.