At the beginning of every rehearsal he watched in his case to see if it was still there. At the moment he retired his colleagues were finally allowed to look in his case. A Violist comes home late at night to discover fire trucks, police cars, and a smoking crater where his house used to be. A Violist is sitting in the front row, crying hysterically. Business before pleasure.
Terrorists have sympathisers.
A dressmaker tucks up frills. They never know when to come in. After a concert is given one of the Violists looks very content. Because even when you know it's coming, there's nothing you can do about it. The Viola burns longer.