Her kind heart gave a little throb of pity as she realised that there would never be any letters to send on––not any, at least, of which Esther was thinking.
The phantom lover had gone for ever.
She looked round at the girl pityingly. She looked so happy and unconscious sitting there in the firelight, and all the time if she knew what had just happened over in Paris her heart would surely break.
“Beast!” said June under her breath.
Esther turned.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“I was only talking to the pen,” June answered irascibly.