“Rich? I should think he is! He’s one of the richest men in London.”
“One of the richest men in London!––but he–––” Esther had been going to add “But he told me that he was poor;” she only just checked the words in time.
June nodded.
“He’s the despair of all the match-making mammas,” she said lightly. “Over thirty, he is, and still a bachelor! I’m not sure if he isn’t on the verge of being caught now, but you never can tell! With a little luck he may escape––she isn’t good enough for him, anyway. Have you finished? I’m dying for a cigarette, and we aren’t allowed to smoke here. Come up to my room and I’ll make you some coffee; the stuff they give us here isn’t fit to drink.”
She pushed back her chair and rose, and Esther followed.
She kept her eyes down as she walked the length of the room; the colour rose in her cheeks as she realised how every one was staring at her. The colonel, whom June had declared was not a colonel at all, rose and held the door open for them to pass out.
June chuckled as they went upstairs.
“You’ve made an impression, my dear! It isn’t often he does that for any one.” She slipped an arm through Esther’s. “Why are you frowning so? Have I said anything to annoy you?”
Esther laughed.