June laughed.
“My dear boy, you’re too late! She doesn’t want your help now, or mine either, for that matter,” she added ruefully. “She’s a lady of means––that wonderful man of hers who’s tucked up in Paris having the time of his life is going to allow her three pounds a week.”
She paused and looked across at him expectantly.
“Well, why don’t you look surprised?” she asked.
Micky swallowed hard.
“I am surprised!” he said. “Too jolly surprised for 94 anything. It’s good news, eh? I suppose she was pleased....”
“Of course she was! She’s staying on now, and is going to share my room. She had a qualm just for a moment, as to whether she ought to take the money, but I soon put her mind at ease. ‘Take all you can get, my dear,’ I said. After all, I dare say if the man’s giving her three pounds he could afford to give her about double that amount; men are not particularly generous from what I know of them––except you, Micky....”
Micky got red.
“But three pounds a week is enough to live on? Don’t you think it is?” he asked, with a touch of anxiety in his voice.
“It’s enough to live here on,” June admitted. “But it’s not great wealth. Still, she’s going to get a berth as well, so perhaps, after all, the one you’ve heard of will suit her. What is it?”