"Oh, well, if she won't, you come along, of course; but try and persuade her."
"She's refused Mrs. Ashton's offer, you know," June said presently. She kept her eyes lowered; she felt self-conscious and guilty.
"Has she?" Micky did not sound particularly interested.
"Yes; the phantom lover objected, or something, and I think it's just as well."
"She said something about it when I had tea with you the other day."
"So she did. I dare say that wretched Raymond would have tried to make love to her if she had gone," she added deliberately.
"He's away just now," Micky said quickly. "I ran across him when I was over in Paris last week."
"Nothing particular; he often goes over, you know."
"I can't stand that man," June said, after a moment.
"I never could see why you were so thick with him," she went on.
"Perhaps because I haven't your gift of second sight, my dear," he said.
"I shouldn't have thought it would need second sight to see what he is," June declared.
She looked across at Micky and was surprised by the hard expression of his face. "I hate men who flirt," she added. "Micky, do you know that I've got a kind of feeling about Esther's phantom lover that he doesn't really exist?"
"I mean that he isn't really a tangible man," she explained haltingly.
"You don't mean--oh, do you mean that you know him?" she asked excitedly.
Micky met her eyes with a faintly ironical smile in his own.
"Yes, I know him," he answered hardily. "And so do you. My dear, I may be very green, but your careful questioning wouldn't deceive a mouse."
"Micky!" said June indignantly. She flushed all over her face, and her queer eyes blazed angrily. She really felt that she had a done a dreadful thing in having allowed him to guess.
"You needn't look so upset," Micky said. "You've not told me anything; I knew it long before you did."
"There's nothing to tell. Ashton often spoke about her to me. I knew she was at Eldred's, and--well that's all," he added lamely.
"All!" said June disappointedly. "But surely you know more than that! What do you think of him? Do you think he really cares for her? Oh, Micky, do you think he's good enough for her?"
"I don't know that it matters very much what I think," he said drily. "She--she loves him apparently, and that's all that counts, I imagine."