But Micky only laughed.
The train was running on to Dover Harbour before Micky realised it; he looked at Esther with pretended dismay in his happy eyes.
“And pray, what am I to do with you, madame? Do you realise that I’m going to Paris?”
“I know–––” She laughed. “I’m going there too––of course, if you’d like to travel in a different train to me....”
She was a very different Esther from the pale, frightened-looking girl who had said good-bye to June at Victoria. Her eyes were dancing now, and her face was radiant. Micky regarded her with proud satisfaction.
“You look years younger and prettier already,” he said. “And that’s after only an hour or two of my wonderful society; so what you’ll look like when we’ve been married for years and years....”
He stopped, and a sudden emotion filled his face.
“What shall we do, love of mine?” he asked tenderly, “Shall we go on, or shall we go back?”
She shook her head.