"What's that?" asked Wild. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. Brown had admitted to the orchestra that he had never seen a better dress 247 rehearsal in the twenty-three years he had been teaching at Lincoln. Listening on the dimlit landing, he saw Roding’s face muscles tighten. ’ Hilary’s brows shot up. I can't concentrate on my work. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. For a time her efforts to achieve a comprehensive concentration were dispersed by the passage of the village street of Caddington, the passing of a goggled car-load of motorists, and the struggles of a stable lad mounted on one recalcitrant horse and leading another.
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