And though he nodded to Iole, letting her know that he was ready to begin, in his mind he was already finished with the concert, lingering around the back of the music hall, stealing glances at Greta just as he had done at the funeral. At last, a friendly face in Vienna! At last, someone who knew — knew what? But Johannes’s desire outstripped any attempt to put it to words and so it exploded out of him from his fingertips, from the deepest parts of the piano, from somewhere inside of him he couldn’t quite locate but imagined had sprung open like a jimmied lock. I want, he thought. Iole furrowed an eyebrow at him, the musicians seemed taken aback with his sudden zeal, but he found he didn’t care.
     The demanding voice grew louder. I want!

—Draft of Sag' Leise Servus, Chapter 3