told herself that if she kept quite still for a few moments she
would wake and find that she had just dreamed it all. She stared hard
into the glowing fire, trying to believe that it was all part of her
dream, that it was not real warmth which she felt on her face at all,
that those leaping flames were only pictures of her imagination, that
even if she thrust her hand into them they would not burn her, but
would just melt away into the silence around like phantoms.

The phantom lover! June's half-mocking words beat dully against her
brain. June had always hated Raymond; she would be glad if this thing
were true.

She suddenly realised that she was shivering in every limb. With an
effort she dragged her chair closer to the fire. She put out her hands
to the flames....

"Good heavens! what are you doing?" said Micky's voice at her
shoulder. She had not heard him come into the room; it was only when
he bent and caught her hand back from the flames that she realised
what she had been going to do. She looked up at him with a sick
smile.

"I thought it wouldn't burn," she said stupidly.

A flash of alarm crept into his eyes; she looked so white.

He kept her hand in his holding it firmly.

"What's the matter?" he asked gently.

There was something so kind in his voice that for a moment she felt as
if she would have given her soul to have been able to lean her head
against his shoulder and sob out the truth; all she had just heard and
all the miserable hope and fear that had tortured her for the past few
weeks.

"What is it?" Micky said again anxiously.

She dragged her hand free of his; she remembered that he, too, had
hated Raymond, that he, too, would be glad when he knew of this
nightmare that had suddenly swooped down upon her.

She rose to her feet, holding fast to the chair-back to steady
herself.

"There isn't anything the matter; but I should like to go home--I'm
tired, that's all; I'm only tired."

She moved away to the door. The cold air beating on her face gave her
a grip of herself again. She stood for a moment looking down the
deserted street, her hands clenched.

It was only for a little while, just until they got back to Enmore,
that she had got to keep up appearances, and then--then....

A sudden wave of tragedy swept through her soul; oh, it could not be
true! It was some other man of whom they had been speaking, some other
Raymond!

She heard Micky laughing with the landlady as he paid