She frowned very slightly above her stocking. "Not particularly," she said.
"You bear with them then?" Piers tone was insistent.
She paused as though considering her reply. "I generally try to avoid them," she said finally.
"You keep aloof—and darn stockings," suggested Piers.
"And listen to your music," said Avery.
"Do you like my music?" He shot the question at her imperiously.
Avery nodded.
"Really? You do really?" There was boyish eagerness about him now. He leaned towards her, his brown face aglow.
She nodded again. "Do you ever—write music?"
"No," said Piers.