He sat down by the fire and proceeded to cut the many envelopes open. He kept thinking of Marie and 141 wondering if it would be kinder not to meet her to-morrow, after all; if he could possibly write her a note that would tactfully explain the situation.
He just glanced at each of the notes as he opened them, and let them drop to the carpet at his feet. They could be answered later; there was nothing of importance, nothing he ... his attention was arrested:––
“Dear Mr. Mellowes,––I wonder if it will be asking too much of you to come round and see me one afternoon for half an hour?––
Yours sincerely, Laura Ashton.”
Micky glanced quickly at the address at the top of the paper––it was from Raymond’s mother.
What in the world could she want with him, he wondered blankly. He looked across at Driver.
“This note––the one that came by hand––when did it come?” he asked.
Driver replied that it had been there for two days. He waited a moment, then went on brushing Micky’s coat.
Micky felt rather disturbed.
Raymond’s mother! What in the wide world could she want with him? Supposing it were anything to do with Esther ...
He wrote a note in reply at once and said he would call the following afternoon; he could just look in early for half an hour and go on afterwards to meet Marie; it was strange how he dreaded both these appointments.