Follow a Stranger

which she could not quite identify.

“I haven’t thanked you yet,” he said quickly. “You worked

like a Trojan tonight. I am very grateful to you.”

“It was nothing,” she dismissed. “Anyone would have

done it.”

“Not quite,” he shook his head. “Only someone kind and

brave. You got filthy, you are very tired and you were very

upset by some of the things you saw. Don’t push my thanks

away, Kate.”

She flushed, then smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be

curt.”

“You are tired,” he nodded. “Go to bed, my ... my dear.”

Kate looked up, smiling at him, and he slowly bent his

head towards her. Her heart quickened into a thunder. She

waited, lids drooping, lips slightly parted.

Then a voice behind them said sharply, “Marc, what is

going on here?”

Marc straightened, stiffening, and his eyes went over

Kate’s head to the woman standing behind her, in the open

doorway.

Marie-Louise repeated her question, in a high, shrill

tone. “Why are you here, in the middle of the night, dressed

like that? Where have you been?”

Kate turned blindly and pushed past her without a word.

As she fled up the stairs she heard Marie-Louise say, “You

haven’t been making love to the little schoolteacher, have

you, darling? You really must not flirt with people like

that—they don’t understand your little games! They take

them seriously and get hurt.”

CHAPTER EIGHT