Here was another woman who must be thinking him a positive
outsider. How in the world did a man put an end to a flirtation that
was growing rapidly into something else without hurting a woman's
feelings, he wondered.

Ashton had accomplished it quite successfully several times. Micky
sighed, and let himself into his flat.

There were several letters lying on the table; he flicked them through
disinterestedly; then he stopped--the last one was from Ashton.

Micky stood for quite a minute staring down at the handwriting, which
he had been at such pains to copy. Then he ripped open the envelope.

Ashton wrote from Paris:--

"DEAR MICKEY,--Just a line to send you my address, as promised.
Hope things are going well with you. I am staying on here for the
present, as I have run up against Maisie Clare--you remember her,
Tubby Clare's little widow? My son, she's got pots of money, and
at the present moment things are looking promising! The mater
would be pleased if I could manage to pull it off. By the way, I
dare say Driver told you I met him the other day--he was very
mysterious and hadn't a word to say! Surely he wasn't joy-riding
over here by himself? Remember me to every one.--Yours, R. F.
ASHTON."

And not one word about Esther! Not a single mention of the girl who
was thinking of him night and day, and only living to see him again.

Micky crushed the letter and tossed it into the fire. That settled it,
he told himself; he no longer had the slightest compunction in cutting
Ashton out; the fellow was not worth a moment's consideration.

CHAPTER IX

Esther trudged to and fro from the agency where the stiff and stately
lady presided so many times during the next few days that she began to
hate the sight of the tall building and the dark stairs covered with
worn linoleum.

Every day the waiting-room seemed crowded with girls, many of whom
were a great deal more shabby and hopeless looking than she was, and
they all sat patiently on the wooden chairs and eyed one another with
a sort of jealous suspicion till their turn came to pass within the
magic portal which guarded the stiff and stately lady from the vulgar
gaze.

"I told you an agency wouldn't be any good," June Mason said when
Esther came home after another fruitless journey. "They take your
money and forget you till you turn up to remind them that you're still
in existence. Give it up, my dear, and come into partnership with me.