“I don’t know. I’ve never been any distance until yesterday.”
“You’d better stay here; it’s preferable to that stuffy cabin.”
But he left her alone almost the whole time, though she knew that he walked up and down close to where she sat. She could see the glow of his cigar through the darkness and hear the slow sound of his steps.
She tried to think things over quietly as she sat there, 260 but everything seemed so unreal, and most of all the fact that Micky had once professed to love her.
In the train he left her to herself till they reached London. He was sure she “did not want to be bothered,” he said, and he was going to smoke.
Esther felt a little pang of disappointment. It seemed a long time till the train steamed fussily into Charing Cross; and the old weary feeling of loneliness had settled again upon her heart by the time Micky came to the door of the carriage.
“June is sure to be somewhere about,” he said laconically. “Will you stay here while I see if I can find her?”
She took a hurried step forward.
“No, I’ll come with you.”
She felt afraid of June’s kindly quizzical eyes; June who knew why she had run away to Paris, and what had been awaiting her there.