him.

After a moment he laughed at himself. A few days ago he had not known
there was such a person as Esther Shepstone in the world, and yet now
here he was, consumed with jealousy because she was not in when he
called.

He took a taxicab back to the West End; he walked about for half an
hour staring aimlessly into shop windows, then went back to his rooms.
He could not understand his extraordinary restlessness; he had only
once before felt anything like it in all his life, and that had been
the first time he ever backed a horse, and was waiting a wire from the
course to say if the brute had won.

He recalled the fever of impatience that had consumed him then, and
laughed; after all, it had been nothing compared with this.

Driver came into the room.

"If you please, sir, Miss Mason has been on the 'phone. She said would
I ask you to meet her for tea."

Micky did not look enthusiastic; he liked June awfully, but to-day
every one and everything seemed a bore.

"Tea! Where?" he asked vaguely.

"Miss Mason said that you would know, sir; the same place as usual."

"Oh, all right!"

Micky looked at the clock and sighed. After all, June was always
amusing; he went off almost cheerfully to the unpretentious club of
which she had spoken to Esther. He had to wait in the lobby while a
boy in buttons fetched June to him. She came downstairs looking very
much at home, and smoking the inevitable cigarette. It was one of June
Mason's charms that she always managed to look at home wherever she
was.

She had taken off her coat, but she wore a green hat with a gold
ornament that suited her to perfection, set on her dark head at rakish
angle.

"I began to think you were not coming," she said.

She gave him her left hand, and Micky squeezed it in friendly fashion.
They went upstairs together to a small tea-room, which was just now
deserted save for two waitresses who were giggling together over a
newspaper.

June walked over to a table in the window, and Micky followed.

He had been here with her scores of times before, and the two
waitresses smiled at one another knowingly; they were quite sure that
this was romance.

Micky was sitting with an elbow on the table, absently smoothing the
back of his head; he was wishing it was Esther sitting opposite to
him; he looked up with a little start when June spoke to him.

"What's up, Micky? I've never seen you looking so depressed."

He roused himself with an effort.