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Kate smiled at her when she had finished. She knew very
well that Pallas had chosen that particular piece in order to
startle her by her technical brilliance, and, she had to admit,
it was very clever. But there had been something lacking.
She could not quite put her finger on what that was, but she
said nothing, except to ask Pallas to sing for her.
The girl looked a little cross. Sullenly she chose a song,
Kate played the introduction on the piano, and Pallas sang.
Kate’s fingers almost halted in amazement as the clear,
sweet notes spilled out. She looked round and saw a dreamy
expression stealing into the girl’s face.
Afterwards, she closed the piano lid with a gesture of
finality. “You don’t need me to tell you that you have a very
lovely voice,” she said, smiling at Pallas. “I shall arrange for
our specialist violin teacher to come in and teach you. Your
voice is really almost beyond me. You need serious training.”
“When I am eighteen Marc will let me go to a college of
music,” said the girl. “But he has no intention of letting me
take up a professional career. So what does it matter?”
Kate leaned back and stared at her. “Why won’t he let you
become a musician?”
“He wants me to marry,” said Pallas, “as I’m sure you
know!” And her eyes bit contemptuously at Kate.
“How should I know? I’ve never met him. Why shouldn’t
you marry and still have a career?”
Pallas shrugged, without answering.
Kate waited, then changed the subject. “I’m sure Miss
Carter could arrange to have someone really good to come in
and teach you singing. Madame Liovitch lives twenty miles
away—she might accept you as a pupil.”
