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Easter to Peter he’d jump at it. He would really love to see
that temple.”
She drew a quick breath. He was right. Peter would
certainly want to go there.
Sam yawned. “I’m off to bed now. Goodnight, Sis.”
When he had gone Kate sat staring at the charcoal
drawing he had made. It really was very like Marc Lillitos.
Some obscure, buried instinct warned her against seeing
too much of that man. They were like people from different
planets. Their lives had touched by chance, and he had
already had a disturbing effect upon her. Her life had been
running smoothly for the past year. She had buried the
yearning for a musical career, had settled down quietly at
home, teaching and planning her life with Peter. And now, in
one day, the smooth threads of her life were tangled and
knotted.
She picked up the pad and tore the sketch off, holding it
up to the light. The arrogant face seemed to smile at her.
Angrily she crunched it into a ball and flung it across the
room, then went up to bed.
She decided, guiltily, not to mention the projected visit to
Kianthos to Peter. She had never practised deceit before,
even by omission, and it upset her. But the thought of
spending two weeks with Marc Lillitos disturbed her even
more.
She was abstracted and dreamy at school next day. Even
Pallas, during her daily singing lesson, commented upon it,
teasingly. Kate was relieved to find the girl still friendly, and
decided that perhaps Marc had not spoken to her of his idea
for the holiday, after all.
