“You’ll bring her back safely, Micky––promise.”
Micky turned away without answering.
“... I can’t live without him any longer....”
In spite of everything, that was how she still felt about the brute.
When he got to the station he found there was no train to town for a couple of hours; he asked a sleepy porter an agitated question.
“Did you see a young lady go by the twelve-twenty––one of the young ladies staying with Miss Dearling. Oh, for heaven’s sake hurry up and answer, man!”
The man scratched an unshaven chin with irritating consideration.
“Yes, I seen her,” he said at last. “She came in running––caught the train to London––she....”
But Micky had gone; he would have to drive to town, 224 he decided. If Esther had got to know the truth, better hear it from him than from that brute.
He drove off at breakneck speed. It seemed miles and miles to London; no matter how much of the winding road he covered, it unfolded again before his eyes, and mercilessly again.