"It's nothing of the kind," June declared. "The only mistake you've made is to put your money on the wrong man, if you'll excuse the expression. Raymond Ashton was always an outsider.... There! I won't say another word. You've come home, and that's all that matters."
It was only when they were safely up in the room with the mauve cushions that she flung her hat down on the sofa and drew a long breath.
"Well, I never thought we should be here together again," she said tragically. "It seemed like the end of everything when I found your note on the pincushion. I don't know what I should have done if it hadn't been for Micky."
"I don't know what I should have done either," Esther said. She met June's eyes and flushed crimson. "I've been horrid about him, I know," she added bravely. "And now I'm sorry."
June said "Humph." She sat for a moment staring at the floor, then she got up and searched for the inevitable cigarettes.
"You ought to go to bed," she said in her most matter-of-fact tone. "Where did you sleep last night?"
"Nowhere--at least--we were in the train all night. I did sleep a little, but...."
"Off you go to bed, and don't argue. I've had a fire put in your room, and Charlie is there with a new bow on. I'll come and tuck you up when you're ready, and...."
"I couldn't sleep if I went to bed. I want to tell you about--about what's happened...." She paused breathlessly, but June was not going to help her.
"I don't want to hear anything," she said flatly. She looked at Esther and saw the tears in the younger girl's eyes. She put an arm round her, drawing her down to the sofa.
"Tell me all about it, then," she said. "I'm just--just longing to know."
"But there isn't much to tell, except----" Esther held out her left hand. "I'm not engaged any more," she said with a faint attempt to laugh. "He--Mr. Ashton--is married...."
"I know--Micky told me before we went to Enmore. I hope he's married a vixen who'll lead him an awful dance. It would serve her right to let her know the sort of man he is--to let her know the sort of letters he's been writing to you--to show him up properly."
Esther hid her face in the mauve cushions.
"Oh, but he has never written to me," she said chokingly. "I've never had a letter from him since he went away, and that was on New Year's Eve. It's all been a mistake--a sham ... he never cared for me--he never really wanted me...."