The beer was by now finished and both the violinist and the guitarist were clearly exhausted.
“You play extremely well,” the Marquis praised the violinist. “Who taught you?”
“My grandfather used to play and he left me the violin when he died so I taught myself, sir.”
“Have you ever thought of going on the stage?”
The man shook his head.
“I’ve never been to a theatre, although I’ve heard about them. But I don’t suppose anythin’ I can do will be good enough for them.”
He spoke quite simply without any regrets and the Marquis wondered if he should try to help him.
“What work do you do here in Little Meadowick?”
“I work on a farm. I look after the chickens and the lambs and help with the harvest.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“It ain’t too bad and these girls from the Vicarage have made it
