Wo wei ni xie de, he said, as he raised the violin to his left shoulder, tucking it under his chin. He had told her many violinists used a shoulder rest, but he did not: there was a slight mark on the side of his throat, like a permanent bruise, where the violin rested. You made something for me? Tessa asked.I wrote something for you, he corrected, with a smile, and began to play.
Say something in Mandarin, said Tessa, with a smile.Jem said something that sounded like a lot of breathy vowels andconsonants run together, his voice rising and falling melodically: Nihen piao liang.What did you say? Tessa was curious.I said your hair is coming undone here, he said, and reached outand tucked an escaping curl back behind her ear. Tessa felt the bloodspill hot up into her face, and was glad for the dimness of thecarriage. You have to be careful with it, he said, taking his handback, slowly, his fingers lingering against her cheek.