Follow a Stranger

“Great, kid,” he enthused. “You look ...” he hesitated,

lost for words.

“Beautiful?” Mrs. Lillitos suggested teasingly.

Sam grinned. “You took the word out of my mouth,

Mrs. Lillitos.”

“And it covers up my sunburn,” Kate told them

confidentially. “My back and arms are still very un-

sightly. I wanted to hide them.”

They sat on the verandah, out of the treacherous sun,

until lunchtime. There was no sign of Marc, and Kate did

not dare to ask after him, but she gathered later that he

had been engrossed in business during her illness, and

had rarely emerged from his office, which was at the far

side of the house.

They were about to move in for lunch when Marc came

out on to the verandah. He stopped dead, catching sight

of Kate, and stared at her in silence for a moment, then

said politely, “You look much better. How do you feel?”

She murmured a vague reply. Sam and Pallas dis-

creetly wandered into the house, leaving them alone.

Kate stood up, feeling ridiculously overdressed. Marc

was wearing a light blue shirt and casual grey slacks.

“I went up to the temple and told your fiancé about

your illness,” he said abruptly.

“That was very kind of you,” she said stiffly.

“He would have come down to see you, but he had to

finish his survey, and as sunburn is hardly a dangerous

illness ...”

“I see his point,” she said, quickly breaking in. “Of

course he wouldn’t come until he had finished.”