“She told him....”
For a moment Micky stood like a man turned to stone. Was this the truth?––that Esther had told Ashton....
He looked again at Marie.
“When did Ashton tell you this?”
“To-night––not a moment ago––he is here.”
“Here!” Then to how many more people had he told the same distorted story?
The blood beat into Micky’s face; it seemed to hammer maddeningly against his temples. Nothing counted but the fact that Esther’s name was being bandied about on the lips of the creature. To stop him––to stop his lying tongue was the one thought in Micky’s mind; he saw the whole world red as he tore open the door of the silent room and strode out into the corridor.
The noisy ragtime had ceased, but a storm of deafening applause and cries of “Encore!” filled the ballroom.
An elderly man cannoned into Micky, and stopped short with a laughing apology.