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it ’ s something to get them staged at all. ’
    ‘ I apologise then for doubting your abilities. ’ She judged him arrogant and lacking in modesty about his work, although as she had not freely mixed with the world of musicians and composers, she supposed they were probably all alike.
    ‘ A most insincere apology, ’ he commented. ‘ You ’ d be glad to hear eventually that the new work was a flop. It would serve me right for being so ambitiously confident. It would carve me down to size. ’
    She could do no more than laugh at the exact way in which he read her thoughts, but even that made her uneasy. This was not the kind of man to whom one longed to be transparent.
    He knocked the ash off his cigar. ‘ They were both flops, those two earlier operas, ’ he admitted. ‘ Satisfied? ’
    ‘ Not particularly. But their failures may have taught you something so that you can make this new one a success. ’
    ‘ Diplomatically spoken! Oh, I can see, Althea—I hope I may call you by your very attractive name—I can see that you ’ re going to have a most restraining influence on me. Whenever I get over-excited or carried away by an aria with a thrilling top C, you ’ ll bring me down to earth. ’
    ‘ I doubt if I shall be around to serve that purpose, ’ she answered drily.
    ‘ Why? Are you leaving Capri soon? ’
    ‘ No. Not as far as I know, but if you ’ re not a welcome visitor to the Marchettis ’ villa —’
    ‘ You ’ re welcome at my house. Bring Carla with you if you feel the need of a chaperone, although I have an old crone to cook a meal or two for me. But don ’ t let Carla persuade you into midnight visits. ’
    ‘ D ’ you think she would? ’ she queried.
    ‘ That girl is ripe for any lark, ’ he murmured darkly.
    ‘ Then don ’ t encourage her by promises you might not want to keep. ’
    ‘ Such as ?’
    ‘ Singing in your operas, for instance. It ’ s doubtful whether her mother would allow her to go off on that kind of career. Signora Marchetti refuses to let Carla go to Naples for singing lessons. ’
    ‘ M ’ m, ’ he murmured. ‘ Come on, let ’ s go. ’ He paid the bill and walked with her out to the narrow streets and towards the piazza.
    ‘ We may be too late, ’ he muttered.
    ‘ Too late for what? ’ she queried, hurrying to keep up with his long stride.
    ‘ Seeing the sunset from the terrace at the piazza. ’
    They threaded through the jostling crowd and came out in the irregular square as the sun was sinking and the island of Ischia was silhouetted against a blaze of glowing colour.
    ‘ One of the most lovely sights this island can produce, ’ Kent murmured. ‘ It never fails to fascinate me. ’
    Althea stood in silence beside him, unwilling to utter some triviality, yet uncertain as to whether he saw only the natural beauty before him or was viewing its magnificence in terms of theatrical backcloths.
    The moment passed swiftly and the orange sun dipped into the bay. Kent turned and leaned his back against the parapet. Almost immediately a voice exclaimed, ‘ So here you are, and we have found you !’
    Carla and her cousin Cristo stood in front of Althea, and the glances they bestowed on Kent Sanderby were mocking and malevolent.
    ‘ You have been here all the time? ’ asked Carla.
    ‘ I came to do some shopping and I met Mr. Sanderby, ’ she explained casually.
    ‘ Your father told us that you were dining with a friend, ’ put in Cristo. ‘ I am sorry that—’
    ‘ And have I your permission to count myself a friend of Miss Buckland? ’ Kent ’ s tone held an undercurrent of anger.
    ‘ You behave strangely, Althea, ’ Carla complained. ‘ You told me you did not like the Signor Sanderby, but when he asks you to dinner, you are willing. ’
    Althea, aware of Kent ’ s interested gaze, spoke hastily. ‘ I ’ m sure your impression was wrong. I ’ ve met Mr. Sanderby only twice before this evening. It would be rash if we all made up