round, talking of the weather, Kate’s sunburn, the world
situation and other very natural subjects.
Dinner that evening was a far more lively occasion.
The two new arrivals, Helene and Marie-Louise, talked
to Marc throughout the meal, ignoring everybody else.
Pallas and Sam ate silently, and Jean-Paul devoted
himself to Kate.
Their frank discussion had left them on a compara-
tively intimate level of friendship. He had discovered a
shared love of Bach, and discussed various recordings
with her, with almost professional enthusiasm and
knowledge.
Kate felt Marc’s eyes upon them from time to time,
probing, curious, watchful. He was flirting lazily with
Marie-Louise most of the time, fencing easily with her
when she tried to provoke a show of jealousy by referring
to her many admirers in Paris.
Her boasts of her conquests made Kate wonder if Marc
were wise in not marrying her quickly. She could not
believe that Marie-Louise did not desire to marry him.
Everything she said, every look, said that she was ready
and eager to be his wife. But was Marc not content,
perhaps, merely to own the lovely French girl? Did he
want to be certain of her fidelity? Perhaps he took her
boasts of conquests too seriously, not seeing them for
what they were—a blatant attempt to make him declare
himself jealously.
After dinner Marie-Louise put a sleepy record on the
turntable and she and Marc danced in the lounge, her
black head upon his shoulder, leaning close to him.