The inherited piano

LEAH: You said we should sell it. Now that I have found a buyer, you say the room will be empty. SIMON: I said we could sell it. There is a difference. LEAH: A useful difference. It lets me make the telephone calls while you keep the right to be sad. SIMON: Do you think the calls made you less sad? LEAH: No. I think they made something happen. SIMON: That was always your answer to an empty room. [Leah closes the keyboard lid, then opens it again.] LEAH: The buyer has a child who plays. It would be used. SIMON: And that should comfort us? LEAH: It comforts me. A little. You do not have to agree. [Simon sits on the piano stool but does not touch the keys.] SIMON: I cannot remember the last thing she played. LEAH: Neither can I. SIMON: I thought you would. LEAH: You could help me clear the music from the cupboard. [After a pause, Simon stands.] The scene gives no further information about the person who previously played the piano.