She struggled on:
“I’ve seen ... Mr. Ashton.” Somehow she could not bring herself to speak of him by his Christian name.
“And I know––I know––that I’ve been––been a fool.”
Her voice broke. She gripped the arms of the chair hard to keep herself from breaking down.
Micky forced himself to speak.
“I’m glad you’ve seen him––as you wished it,” he said jerkily. “But as hoping I will forgive you, there’s nothing to forgive––it’s all the other way on. I behaved like––like a cad––it’s for you to forgive me.”
He smiled faintly.
“And now we’ve both said the right thing I’ll go and see about that train,” he said.
But again she stopped him.
“I don’t want you to go––I want to talk to you. I want ... oh, I don’t know what I do want!” she finished, with a sob.