They stepped outside during intermission. She told him twentieth century dissonant music made her nervous. To her it sounded like music from a cartoon where all the characters were evil. Could they leave, she asked, but he insisted they stay. He explained it was simply a matter of adjusting the ear and the brain to hearing something new. In time she would find it beautiful. So they returned to their seats. He began to think she might not be the right one. Perhaps she was not as interesting as he once believed. He sat there listening to the piece by Xenakis, trying to hide the fact that dissonant music made him nervous as well.