He led the way into the parlour. Two men wrapped in heavy coats stood by the fire; they moved to make way for Esther. After a moment they went out of the room, and she saw them in the road bending over the car next to Micky’s.
“We can have coffee and buns,” Micky said, coming back after a moment. “I don’t know what they’ll be like, but–––”
“I shall enjoy them anyway,” she told him. “I really am hungry.”
He pulled off his gloves and dragged a chair up to the fire for her.
“This is fine,” he said. “Have you ever thought what a novelty a honeymoon would be touring through villages like this? I should like to just start away and go on driving for miles and miles, just staying anywhere and getting meals anyhow.”
Esther laughed. “I should have thought it was just the sort of thing you would hate,” she said.
“That’s where you’re mistaken,” he told her. “I live 210 in town and in the way I do because people expect it of me, and I’m too lazy to bother to change. It’s not a bit the life I should choose if I had my way. I hate dressing for dinner, and wading through six or seven courses, and being bored stiff half the time by some dressed-up woman beside me....”
He looked at her with a comical expression.
Esther leaned her chin in her hand and raised serious eyes to his face.
“Well, how would you really like to live, then?” she asked.