Follow a Stranger

had to protect herself at that moment, against the pain of

hearing his mother telling her about his need of Marie-

Louise.

Mrs. Lillitos did not attempt to reopen the subject. She

sat down in one of the thick leather chairs, and listened to

the record Kate chose—a crashing piece of Wagner which

rode down the storm and made it seem irrelevant.

When the music ended, the storm seemed to be blowing

itself out, although rain still rattled against the shutters

and the wind blew the cypresses until their branches

scraped along the walls.

>

Kate put on another record, since Mrs. Lillitos seemed

reluctant to go to bed. This one was quieter, more conducive

to a state of drowsiness.

“Ah, Bach,” Mrs. Lillitos sighed, smiling. “Jean-Paul told

me of your fondness for him. Marc, too, loves Bach,

especially the Brandenburgs.”

Kate forced herself to smile. She wished she had not been

told that Marc loved her favourite composer. She wanted to

be able to listen to Bach in future without being reminded of

her brief, unhappy stay here on Kianthos.

They heard the record to the end and then went up to

bed. Mrs. Lillitos smiled and touched Kate’s hand, as they

said goodnight at her door.

“You have been very kind to me, petite. I have never

enjoyed a thunderstorm before!”

Kate laughed. “I’m glad you enjoyed this one— I did, too.”

They turned to part, when a loud hammering startled

them. It went on, growing in volume, and Marc’s door burst