"Keep playing," the lead violinist says.
We nod and comply.
Dancers and diners eye the exits, nervously touching their purses, tiaras and each other.
We keep playing.
Music sheets slide off their stands, a bottle rolls across the floor, empty tables change position.
"Something by Liszt," I suggest to my fellow musicians in an attempt at wit.
"What about Handel's Water Music?" a neighbouring cellist says, warming to the theme.
We keep playing.
The grand piano, along with its stool and pianist, who's still gallantly tinkling the ivories, trundles past us.
We keep playing.
Meanwhile, the unsinkable ship keeps sinking.
