MEET ME ON THE BARRICADES

Greco painting leaving behind his companions, the
elongated prelates and intellectuals of sixteenth cen-
tury Toledo. Distinguished in appearance, possessed
of a quiet dignity, he might have been mistaken for
a diplomatistp or a scholar of great means. Actually
he was a member of the violin section of Turano’s
orchestra.

“Have you had lunch yet?” Ascaso asked, looking
at his watch. “We have more than an hour before re-
hearsal and I’m famished. Will you join me?”

Simpson accepted the invitation and together they
walked west along Forty-second Street; Simpson
carrying his oboe, Ascaso, his violin.

“Things look pretty bad in Europe,” Simp-
son said as they walked, “fascism and that sort of
thing.”

Ascaso smiled a slow, painful smile. A

“Yes, that which we have feared has come to pass.
How do the English say it? The long threatening

93

“And one feels so helpless,” Simpson said help-
lessly.

“That’s the mood today: helplessness and be-
trayal.” Ascaso spoke without passion in the manner
of one who has long reconciled himself to a disagree-
able fact.

95

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