He picked up the menu to hide his discomfort. When the waiter came he ordered the best dinner the restaurant served. He was conscious that the girl was watching him anxiously. When the waiter had gone, she said, “I can’t afford to have a dinner like that.”
Micky flushed crimson.
“I thought you were dining with me,” he stammered. “I––I hope you will––I shall be only too honoured....”
Her grey eyes met his anxiously.
“I’ve never done a thing like this before,” she said in distress. “I don’t know what you are thinking of me ... but ... well, I suppose I was just desperate....” She broke off biting her lip, then she rushed on again. “I don’t suppose you’ll ever see me any more, so it doesn’t really matter much, but....”
“I hope to see you again, many times,” said Micky, with an earnestness that surprised himself.
She looked away, and her face hardened.
“I suppose men are all the same,” she said, after a moment. “However....” she shrugged her shoulders with a sort of recklessness that made Micky frown. She leaned back in her chair with sudden weariness. “It’s very kind of you,” she said disinterestedly.
“It’s not kind at all,” he hastened to assure her. “I’m much more pleased to be with you than you are to be with me. If it hadn’t been for you I should have spent this evening alone––New Year’s Eve, too,” he added, with a sort of chagrin and a sudden memory of Marie Deland.