There was a little silence.
“I may not go after all,” Esther said suddenly. There was a note of nervousness in her voice. She coloured, meeting June’s amazed eyes.
June screamed.
“Not go! Well, I never!” She sat down in a heap on the hearthrug staring at Esther. “I never knew such a girl,” she complained. “Micky, I appeal to you....”
But Micky was not going to be appealed to; he was stolidly stirring his tea.
“I suppose I can change my mind if I like?” Esther said.
“Oh, it isn’t you who have changed your mind,” June cut in ironically. “It’s something that phantom lover of yours has said in his letter. Own up, now.”
“Well, and if it is?” Esther demurred. “I suppose he has a right to say what he likes, hasn’t he?” But she was laughing as she spoke; she felt wonderfully happy and light-hearted. “I believe you’re jealous,” she declared.
“Jealous, indeed!” said June indignantly. Then suddenly she sighed. “Well, perhaps I am; who knows? What does he say? or mayn’t we ask?”
Micky had stopped stirring his tea; there was a sort of intentness about his big figure.