Free Then She Fled Me by Sara Seale Page B

perception.
    “ It was nice of you, ” she said. “ Kathy would have been hurt if you ’ d refused. ”
    He began to relax. Even Miss Dearlove, though her remarks were as arch as ever, seemed more subdued than usual, and when Kathy said in her soft voice: “ Do tell us why you play your records in such a funny way, Mr. Flint—we ’ ve been dying of curiosity, ” he felt no annoyance at this public intrusion into his affairs.
    “ I hadn ’ t thought it might sound odd, ” he said. “ But the explanation ’ s quite simple. I ’ m writing a book on music composed for the keyboard and I ’ m picking out examples of piano recordings to illustrate my points. ”
    “ Oh! ” said Kathy on a quick breath. “ How—how exciting. You have some lovely records. I would love to hear them properly. ”
    “ So you shall, ” he replied. “ You must borrow my gramophone sometime. ”
    She looked disappointed, and Sarah knew she had hoped to be asked to his room.
    “ Have you heard Kathy play, Mr. Flint? ” Miss Dearlove asked impressively. “ Dear child, do show Mr. Flint what you can do. For once you will have a really appreciative audience. ”
    “ I don ’ t think —” Kathy began doubtfully, but Adrian said: “ Please do, Miss Riordan, ” and she went to the piano.
    She played some Schumann and a light, trivial little drawing room piece which delighted Miss Dearlove ’ s sense of whimsy. Sarah, sitting a little behind Adrian, watched his profile in the shadows. His face held only polite attention, but she noticed he was at his old trick of rubbing his finger joints.
    “ Thank you, ” he said, when Kathy had finished. She waited for something further, but it was Miss Dearlove, clapping her hands with rather foolish abandon, who gushed: “ Charming, dear child! You would make a professional. Don ’ t you think she would make a professional, Mr. Flint? ”
    “ You have a nice touch, Miss Riordan, ” Adrian said politely, and Joe immediately asked for his favorite Londonderry A i r.
    “ You really know about music, don ’ t you? ” said Sarah softly under cover of the music.
    Adrian turned his head and realized she had been watching him.
    “ A little, ” he replied lightly. “ Your sister plays very well. ”
    She smiled at him, and her smile hinted at things of which she could not possibly know.
    “ Do you have any hidden talents? ” he asked quickly to avoid the odd little moment of intimacy.
    She grinned, wrinkling her nose at him, and the impre ss ion passed.
    “I? I’ve no talents, hidden or otherwise,” she told him carelessly. “I whistle—sometimes I even sing, but no one would want to l isten to me.”
    Kathy had stopped playing, and Aunt Em asked quietly from her corner by the fire:
    “ Do you suffer from rheumatism, Mr. Flint? ”
    “ I don ’ t think so. ” He looked puzzled.
    “ I only asked because I notice you have a little habit of massaging your fingers, ” she said. “ I do it myself in the wet weather. ”
    He looked at his hands with an expression of curious distaste, then thrust them suddenly into his pockets. Very soon after, he said goodnight and went back to his room.
    “ A little abrupt, isn ’ t he? ” observed Miss Dearlove generally. “ Wh a t do you make of our Mr. Flint, Mr. Kavanagh? ”
    “ Seemed all right to me, ” said Joe casually. “ Probably a very good chap when you get to know him. Scarcely the paralytic old dodderer of your imagination, eh, Sarah? ”
    “ I wish —” said Sarah slowly, twisting her hands together.
    “ What? That a fine romance would spring up, between you or Kathy? He ’ s quite nice-looking, you know. ”
    “ Nothing, ” said Sarah briefly. “ I ’ m going to do my farm rounds. ”
    She was in the stables, which now housed nothing but a couple of farm horses and the donkey, when she heard Joe ’ s step, and looked round in surprise.
    “ I was only teasing, Sarah, ” he said gently.
    “ I should hope so! You don