He found a table and ordered a meal, but he knew he should not be able to eat a thing.
“I don’t want anything to eat,” Esther said. She sat sideways in her chair away from the table; there was a pitiable look of strain in her face; she still gripped her suit-case tightly. When Micky asked her to be allowed to put it down for her she turned on him almost fiercely.
“Leave me alone––oh, leave me alone!”
The French garcon eyed them both interestedly. Any one far less keen of perception than he was could have seen that there was tragedy of some kind between this pretty, frail-looking girl and the tall man in the big coat.
“You said you were hungry, but you’re not eating anything,” Esther broke out irritably. “How much longer are you going to make me sit here? I want to catch a train to Paris to-night.”
“There are no trains, except slow ones,” Micky told her; “the express has gone half an hour ago. I can find you rooms in a hotel close by for the night....” His eyes met hers across the table, and he broke out, “Esther, for God’s sake let me explain things to you. You’ve all your life before you; to-morrow, if you wish it, I’ll go away and never see you again. But I can’t let you go now without telling you the truth. I ought to have told you before––it was for your own sake I tried to keep it back....”
Her grey eyes searched his face disbelievingly.
“If you’ve anything to say against Mr. Ashton,” she said, “I refuse to listen. I shouldn’t believe anything you say, for one thing. Why, you don’t even know his name––unless June has told you,” she added breathlessly.
“June has told me nothing, but I know, all the same. I knew the first night I ever met you––when I left you and went back to my rooms, he was there waiting for me....”