He closes his eyes as he listens to the song. The renewed energy in her performance causes him to see her as she once was. Somewhere, she is beautiful again.
He must move quickly at the end of this number. Lost in reverie, he had almost forgotten the applause control. He draws this one out. She is bowing in his direction now, almost as if ...
No!
She has collapsed. The last piece was too much for her. He is on his feet and out the door, rushing down the stairs. It can't end this way ... He had not anticipated her exerting herself to this extent for a single item and then not making it beyond it - even if it was one of her most famous pieces. It strikes him as very unfair.
He hurries up the aisle and onto the stage. He is lifting her, holding a glass of water to her lips. The applause tape is still running.
She looks at him.
"You can see!"
She nods and takes a drink.
"For a moment, during the last song, my vision began to clear. It is still with me. I saw the hall. Empty. I had feared I could not get through that song. Then I realized that someone from among my admirers cared enough to give me this last show. I sang to that person. You. And the song was there ..."
"Mary ..."
A fumbled embrace. He raises her in his arms - straining, for she is heavier and he is older now.
He carries her back to the dressing room and phones for an ambulance. The hall is still filled with applause and she is smiling as she drifts into delirium, hearing it.
She dies at the hospital the following morning, John at her bedside. She mentions the names of many men before this happens, none of them his. He feels he should be bitter, knowing he has served her vanity this final time. But he is not. Everything else in her life had served it also, and perhaps this had been a