ay from me, as you speak of doing, I think,
quite quietly, I shall kill myself!"

Good heavens! The woman, whoever she was, said it as it she meant it.
It was no joking voice, its owner was deeply moved. She was evidently
French, though her English was nearly faultless, the accent a mere
flavour. Esther recalled that a man and woman had taken the table on
her right and a little behind her. She longed to look at them, but
controlled her impulse, out of curiosity to hear more. There was a
silence that seemed interminable. Then the woman spoke again, her
voice vibrant, urgent:

"You heard me! Why don't you answer? Why? Ah! My God, it is like
beating against a stone wall!"

At last a man's voice, low, cold and a little sulky.

"What do you want me to say, Therese? You know as well as I do I've
got to live."

"Ah, but is that the reason--the only reason for your going?"

"Good God, what else would it be? You don't imagine I'd choose to bury
myself in a rotten hole like that, do you?"

There was a long sigh, quavering with tears.

"I know how fearfully difficult it all is, only, Arthur, why must you
decide at once? Why not wait a bit?"

"If I wait, I lose the job. That's why. I thought you understood.
Besides, what is there to hang about here for?"

"Well ... There's always a chance, isn't there?"

An exclamation of contempt followed by the scratch of a match, then
again silence, fraught, so Esther felt, with tension. Who, what were
these people? She must try to steal a glance at them. Cautiously she
turned her head, then, finding both the occupants of the next table
were looking the other way, she indulged in a good inspection.

The woman claimed her attention first. Young--a very young
thirty-five, Esther decided--blonde with delicate transparency, and
lovely; her natural beauty was accentuated by careful make-up and
clothes so exquisite that they could be called "elegant" without a
misuse of the word. It seemed evident that she was wealthy. Her gown
of filmy black had the cachet of an exclusive house, the expensive
simplicity that serves so well as a background for wonderful jewels.
Against it gleamed a heavy strand of glistening pearls--"Real ones,
too!" thought Esther--on one slender arm slid negligently half a dozen
diamond bangles, on the hand which supported her chin an enormous
square diamond blazed. Her skin, shadowed by her little close black
hat, was dazzling, her eyes large,