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against her chair.
Feebly she stood up, refusing Kate’s offer of help with a
silent shake of the head.
“I do not feel very hungry tonight,” she said. “I think I
will go back to my room. Will you call my son?”
Kate obeyed and Marc came in quickly, looking at his
mother with natural anxiety.
“Give me your arm, my son,” she said heavily.
He moved to her side at once and they left the room
slowly. Kate sank back into her own chair, baffled. Why
had Mrs. Lillitos suddenly altered? Was it just that she
had begun to feel ill, or had something Kate said upset
her?
Before she could think too closely about it, Pallas and
Sam had come in together, talking loudly.
“Oh, you’re alone,” said Pallas, with obvious relief. “I
thought Marc might be in here. Heavens, Kate, if you had
seen his face when he discovered we had let you go up to
To Angkistri alone! He practically burst a blood vessel.
Marc has such set ideas about women. He likes to wrap
them in cotton wool for safe keeping.” She grinned at
Sam. “Although these days he does seem to be making an
effort to turn a blind eye to my new clothes and hairstyle.
So perhaps he is improving.”
“He’s a throwback to the knights of old,” Sam teased.
“His recipe for life starts, first catch your damsel ...”
Pallas giggled. “Club her,” she suggested, “and throw
her over your horse.”
Sam played up. “Gallop away with her to your castle,”
he added, twirling an imaginary moustache, “and shut
