with
a curious sort of wonderment in her grey eyes. Then all at once she
began to laugh, a laugh which held no real mirth, only incredulity.

Micky raised his head sharply.

For a second they stared at one another; then Micky said hoarsely--

"You don't believe me"; and then again, more slowly: "You mean that
you--don't believe--me?"

He half rose to his feet.

"Esther, I implore you."

She moved back from him.

"It was clever of you--to think of such an excuse," she said
unevenly.

"It's the truth; I swear it if I never speak again. I know now that I
must have been out of my mind to attempt such a thing, but it has only
seemed impossible since you showed me how little you thought of me. I
wrote those letters--every one of them. I----"

In the excitement of the moment neither of them had noticed that the
train had reached its destination and was slowly stopping.

A voluble porter had already wrenched open the door and was imploring
monsieur to accept his services; it was impossible to say any more to
Esther.

Micky followed her out on to the platform; he felt that the last shred
of his patience and tenderness had been killed.

She did not believe him--whatever he said she would never believe him;
it was useless to waste his breath; he might as well give up and let
her go her own way; perhaps a sharp lesson would teach her better and
more quickly than all his love had been able to do.

He was dispirited and hungry, and hunger alone makes a man angry. He
looked at the girl for whose sake he had raced all these miles of
wild-goose chase, and a boorish longing to hurt her, to let her suffer
rose in his heart.

Let her go to Ashton and see for herself the sort of man he was.

He spoke with savage impulse.

"I won't bother you with my unwelcome company any longer. You will be
able to get breakfast in the restaurant, and you will find that most
people here understand English.... Good-bye----"

Esther gave a little gasp--

"You're not going to leave me?"

The hardness of his eyes did not soften.

"You are not trying to tell me that you wish me to stay, surely?" he
submitted drily.

She raised her head.

"Certainly not; after all, it's your own fault you came."

He did not answer, perhaps he could not trust himself; he raised his
hat and turned away unseeingly, and Esther clutched her suit-case
tightly and walked away with her head in the air, trying to look as if
she knew every inch of the Gare S