Unsuspecting, Mr. King explained.
“The fact is, Saturday I’ve planned to go on the hill. You remember Grandoken’s niece? I want to find out how she’s progressing in her music.”
If Theodore had been watching Molly’s face, he would have noted how its expression changed darkly. But, humming a tune, he went into the house unconcernedly, and Molly recognized the rhythm as one Jinnie had played that night long ago with Peg Grandoken’s lace curtains draped about her.
Jinnie’s youth, her bright blue eyes, her wonderful talent, Molly hated, and hated cordially. Then she decided Theodore should go with her Saturday.
That evening when Jordan Morse came in, Molly told him she would help him in any scheme to get Jinnie away from Bellaire.
“You’re beginning to understand he likes her pretty much, eh?” asked the man rudely.
Molly wouldn’t admit this, but she replied simply:
“I don’t want her around. That’s all! As long as she’s in Bellaire, the Kings’ll always have her here with her fiddle.”
“Some fiddle,” monotoned Jordan.
“It’s the violin that attracts Theodore,” hesitated Molly.