“Are there any letters?” Esther asked. She felt a swift feeling of envy as she looked at these two, so 205 openly and unfeignedly glad to see one another. “I suppose it’s expecting too much though,” she added with a sigh.
June did not answer, and Esther went on and up the stairs.
“There is one for her,” June said in an undertone to Micky as soon as she had gone. “And one from Paris, too––from that man! Micky, are you sure it isn’t all a mistake about him being married?”
“Sure,” said Micky stolidly.
“Then shall I––what shall I do about that letter––it was sent on from London. Ought I to let her have it?”
Micky was taking off his coat, his back was turned.
“Oh, let her have it,” he said casually. “It may be the last she’ll ever get.”
He turned swiftly. “Let me look at it.”
June took it from her dress and handed it to him.
He glanced at the writing and gave it back to her.