He rose and bent over her, but she did not move, and he went back again to his corner.
He let the window down a little way, hoping the cold night air would help to keep him awake. The minutes seemed to drag, though in reality only a quarter of an hour had passed when Esther woke with a little smothered cry.
Micky was on his feet in an instant.
“It’s all right––there’s nothing to be afraid of––you’ve been asleep.”
She rubbed her eyes childishly with her knuckles; she stared at him for a moment unrecognisingly, then, as memory returned, she shrank back into her corner.
Micky picked up the rug and coat that had slithered to the floor; he waited a few moments till he saw that she was quite awake before he spoke, then he said gently––
“I hope you feel better. We shall soon be in now. Are you warm enough?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“We shall be into Paris very soon,” he said again; “and there is a great deal I want to say to you first. Will you listen to me if I try to explain?”
She met his eyes unflinchingly.