The year 1873:
Christine's father is playing the violin. "Child," he says, as he sits Christine on his lap. "When I am gone, I will send the Angel of Music to you."
"Why do you say that?" Christine's throat begins to close up. "That's sad."
"I want you to know that you'll always be protected," he said, and kisses her on the mouth.
She's too old to be sitting on his lap.