have always been sorry that I did not go to Paris that day
when I wanted to?--I wish I had now."

"Why now?" Micky asked.

She gave a little troubled laugh.

"I don't know. I really can't explain." She did not understand herself
what she really meant, but last night when she had read Raymond's
letter, it had suddenly come over her with a sickening feeling of
dismay that in some indefinite way he was really getting to be what
June had always called him--a phantom lover! It seemed so long since
she had seen him. After all, what were letters and words? But she
could not explain this to Micky.

"I think I know what you mean," he said after a moment. "You are
getting tired of this separation. Is that it? Letters are all very
well, but they are not enough...."

She looked up at him in surprise.

"Why, that is just what I do mean? How did you know?"

He laughed rather ruefully.

"Perhaps I've felt like it myself," he said.

"Have you?" There was a little note of wonderment in her voice.

"I said 'perhaps,'" he reminded her.

She changed the subject; she drew his attention to the country through
which they were passing. It was bare and wind-swept, but there was a
sort of rugged picturesqueness about it that appealed to Esther.

"I believe I should like to live in the country, after all," she said
suddenly. "You seem to be able to really breathe down here; it's not
shut in like London is."

"Dear old London," Micky said. "We all run it down, but we're all glad
to get back there when we've been away for more than a few days." He
leaned forward, wrapping the rug more closely round her. "Where do you
think you will live when you are married?" he asked.

The hot colour flooded her face; she looked up at him in a scared sort
of way.

"What a question! How do I know? I've never even thought about it."

"Haven't you?" said Micky. "I have, crowds of times. I've worked it
all out to a nicety. I shall have a house in London and a place in the
country as well, so that if my wife doesn't like town we can divide
our time and stay six months at each."

"We are not all rich like you are, you know," Esther said drily. "I
dare say when I get married--if I ever do--I shall just have a little
flat somewhere and stay there for the rest of my life, and be very
happy too," she added with a sort of defiance.

"Yes," said Micky after a moment. "I think I could be very happy in a
flat, too, for the rest of my life--with the right