"Very.... Where are you hurrying off to?"
He tried to speak casually, but his heart was beating uncomfortably.
"I'm just going back home," Esther said. "I've been to an agency looking for a berth."
"A berth!" A frown came between his eyes. "What sort of a berth?" he asked quickly.
"Well, I'm think of taking your advice--and going as companion to an old lady--not that she's very old," she added doubtfully, with sudden memory of Raymond's mother.
"Well, I have the refusal of it." She looked at him with defiant eyes. "I am only just hesitating--I want to talk to Miss Mason about it--she is much more worldly wise than I am."
"June is a very sensible woman," he said. "I am glad you like her." He hesitated. "And the--er--post?" he asked with an effort. "Will it be in town?"
She was obviously not going to tell him any more, but Micky persevered.
"I wonder if it is likely to be any one I know. I have quite an extensive acquaintance in London."
"Yes," said Esther. "But I don't suppose you will know these people, anyway," she added with an unconscious touch of loftiness in her voice. "The name is Ashton--Mrs. Raymond Ashton."
There was the barest possible silence before Micky answered, a silence during which the blank dismay and anger that crossed his face would have been amusing had it not also had something of pathos in it.
"Ashton?" he said. "Oh, yes, I know Raymond Ashton very well." He was watching her with jealous eyes, and she turned her head sharply and looked up at him.
Just for a moment a traitorous eagerness crossed her face; he could almost see the quick question on her lips, then she laughed.
"Really! How funny! But, of course, as you say, you must know a great many people."
"I have known the Ashtons for years. You will like Mrs. Ashton."
There was a sort of quiet insinuation in the words, and Esther bit her lip.
"And--the son?" she asked. "I think you said you knew the son."
"Yes, I know him--he is in Paris, I believe."
Micky was conscious of a queer tightening about his throat; it was a tremendous effort to force himself to speak lightly.
"And shall I like him as well, do you think?" Esther asked deliberately.
Micky's restraint broke its bonds; if he had died for it he could not have checked the words that rushed to his lips.