“Some man you care for––care for very much,” Micky went on slowly. “Perhaps some one you have quarreled with––who hadn’t been quite as ... kind as he might have been–––”
The soft colour flooded her face.
“Did you guess––last night?” she asked shyly.
Micky smiled.
“Did I? I am not sure, perhaps.” He drew a long breath that was half a sigh. “Well?” he queried.
“I don’t know why I am telling you this–––” she said again, with a sort of distress. “It cannot interest you, but, somehow, I think I should like you to know.”
“It interests me very much––I am honoured that you should tell me.” Micky looked again at the ring she wore; quite a cheap little ring, with a couple of inferior diamonds. “You mean that you are engaged to be married?”
“Yes; at least–––” The words were only a whisper.
Micky sat very still.
“Well, I suppose you will have me for a friend all the same, won’t you?” he asked with an effort.