He left his corner to waddle to the platform where Mrs. Weston was giving now a selection of Irish airs to vociferous applause.
"I have to thank you," he said simply, holding out his hand. "Music—music is all to me. But ... somewhere ... once I have heard someone else play that just as you do."
"Everyone plays it much the same, I should think," said Violet Weston, a little abruptly, moving away.
Miss O'Toole made seven pounds clear and had given, as she said, a wonderful musical treat to everyone. In fact Sir Abel Huntley had assured her that if it was a choice between another concert in Kildrellan and one at the Queen's Hall, he would come to hers.
CHAPTER XIV
"Not tired again, Violet?" said Gheena reproachfully. "And we began a mile on to-day?"
Mrs. Weston explained that she had twisted her ankle coming down the stony little lane, and she really could not go on. She said acidly that they had come miles, and one could see all the caves on the shore, and she did not believe anyone could hide things in them.
"There are one or two ledges," said Gheena thoughtfully, "and I've heard the water gurgling inside the rocks. I shall go on looking with Crabbit if you can't come."
They were close to the little fishing village of Leeshane. It crouched in the hollow of a shingly bay with the rocks poking out on either side, the cliffs gradually rising to the point, where ships swung into the calm water of the harbour.
They had been along the cliffs quite often, searching through the gorse bushes and trails of bramble and stunted fuchsias, until Violet Weston grew tired; high-heeled shoes soon caused twinges of pain on the rough ground.