She did her best to push the shadow aside. She tried to laugh and talk with June as they went off to meet Mr. George P. Rochester.
He was a big, bluff man, with a hand-clasp like the 270 grip of a bear, and a twang that could be cut with a knife.
They lunched at a restaurant which she had never even heard of, though June seemed quite at home. There were several people at other tables, whom June knew, and Esther felt very out of it all, and unhappy.
It was a good thing she had refused to marry Micky, she thought with a sort of anger. She knew none of his friends and nothing of the life to which he had always been accustomed. She did not realise that it was the knowledge of her shabby coat that was affecting her spirits more keenly than anything.
June’s clothes were not new, but they had an unmistakable “cut” about them, and Rochester was exceedingly well dressed.
He talked to June a great deal. Once or twice he tried to draw Esther into the conversation, but, seeing that she wished to be let alone, he soon gave up the attempt.
He was certainly a most friendly person––one would have thought that he and June had known one another for years. Before lunch was ended he had invited himself to tea for the following afternoon.
“That’s Yankee push if you like!” June said when he had gone. “Give me a Yankee every time to make things go!” She looked at Esther excitedly. “Do you know,” she said, “I’ve a great mind to try and persuade that man to come into partnership with me.”
Esther laughed.
“I should say he’d suggest it himself if you give him another day or two,” she said drily. She wandered listlessly round the room.