Follow a Stranger

bring you. He said it would be delightful to meet a pretty

girl.” He grinned at her, his grey eyes alight with wicked

amusement. “Spiro loves the company of pretty girls and

he has been shut up on Epilison for weeks, writing a new

concerto. He jum

ped at you like a hungry trout jumping

at a fly.”

Kate flushed. “I’m sure he didn’t,” she protested.

“Wait until you meet him. You’ll see I am telling the

truth. You’ll come?”

“If you’re sure ...” she said nervously. “Are Pallas and

Sam going, too?”

“No,” he said firmly. “Too many people would irritate

him. He hates a crowd.”

“Pallas is a pretty girl,” she suggested innocently, her

eyes on his face.

He grinned at her. “Spiro has known her since she was

knee-high to a cicada—he would squabble with her. There

is something childlike about him, you know. He and

Pallas always quarrel, but they are fond of each other.”

Kate excused herself early, pleading fatigue, and he

stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching her. “If your

back is aching I have some liniment that might help,” he

offered, seeing her involuntarily holding her back.

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Thank you.”

“I promise not to kiss the sore place again,” he offered

teasingly.

Red and furious, she did not answer, but ran quickly

up the stairs.

Next morning she was downstairs early for breakfast,