"You mean to say", sputters Carol, "That you people here intend to take us all as your personal hostages because of this bloody virus!"
"You are free to leave anytime you like. I was only thinking that staying here might be safer, and a bit easier, considering everything that is happening in the world right now."
Carol distracts herself spooning melted ice cream into her mouth. "This is delicious", she mutters, "This is just delicious."
"I think I would say", say I, "Voluntary hostages? But, I think you're right, Carl. This could be safer. And better."
"You do have here a lovely baby grand", Carol says.
"And, Carol", Sarah rhapsodizes, "We are so honoured to hear you play on it."
Sheila says suddenly, "What, you play the piano."
"Sheila", says Carl, beaming, "Here we have in our midst one of the world's preeminent concert pianists. This is the legendary Carol Barlow-Mead.
"Oh", Sheila says dryly", I used to hear you on the CBC."
"Before those idiots eviscerated most of the classical music programming", grumbles Matthew.
"Oh that was pure politically correct fascism", says Michael. "They didn't want to shill for dead white male composers.
"You wanna settle this outside?" says Sarah, grinning...
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