After a moment––
“There’s a son, too,” June said. “A kind of Adonis to look at, beautiful eyes and all that sort of thing.”
“Yes,” said Esther. She tried hard to keep the eagerness from her voice. “Do you––do you know the son too?” she asked nervously.
June gave a queer little laugh.
“Oh yes, I know him. That is to say, I say ‘How d’ye do’ to him when I have the misfortune to meet him, but–––”
Esther’s hands were clasped in her lap.
“Why––why––misfortune?” she asked.
June Mason shrugged her shoulders.
“Oh, I don’t know––it’s hard to explain––he’s never done me any harm, but there are some people one hates 112 by instinct, and Raymond Ashton is one of the people I hate.” She smoothed a crease in the skirt of her frock. “He’s such a––such an awful outsider,” she added, unconsciously choosing the word Micky Mellowes had used a few hours before.
Esther sat very still. Twice she tried to speak, but no words would come. She knew that it was unfair to June to sit there and allow her to go on talking about Raymond, but something in her heart seemed to have set a seal on her lips.