He looks around again before sighing and beginning his tale.
"I am a violinist, as you know, yes, I play my violin well, but I have a condition, see, but I have some medicine given me by the doctor," He pats his hand over his chest. "At times, I find it well to get some air in these lungs, some fresh air, yes. On this night after the police had separated the young
signors, I was sitting here at this window, taking in the air, as it helps me feel better, yes. I was meditating a bit as well, writing the strains of my exquisite symphony to myself... at about 9 o'clock young Master Sommers received a visitor, yes. I still hear the clip-clop, clip-clop on the road... the visitor was in the rooms for a while, nearly three hours, I was in bed before they left, but I could not sleep. I felt a sense of impending doom, a black feeling, like a child in the throes of nightmare. I was frightened! It was the feeling of, I know not how to say, something not right. At around midnight, I heard a second vehicle approaching." He shudders and checks the windows again. He totters back the hallway and checks all the doors and the rear window. He draws the drapes on the rear window as well.
