d
across her eyes. She must conquer this absurd weakness. She forced
herself to remember that she was alone, but she felt as if she had no
will-power left.

A door in front of her opened suddenly, and a man came into the
lounge.

When he saw Esther he stopped. The hot colour rushed to his face. He
seemed to be waiting for some sign from her. For a moment their eyes
met; then, hardly knowing what she did, Esther held out her hand.

"Oh, please," she said faintly, "oh, please tell me--what I am to
do?"

But for the next few minutes she was past remembering anything, though
she never really lost consciousness. She only knew that everything was
all right now Micky was here--and the sheer relief the knowledge
brought with it for the time threw her into a sort of apathy.

Some one took off her hat and the big fur coat that had grown so
heavy; some one had bathed her face and unlaced her shoes, and now
Micky stood there looking down at her with eyes that hurt, though they
smiled.

"I've told them to bring lunch in here," he went on. "You'll like it
better than the public room--and I haven't had mine yet."

Esther looked up at him.

"And can we--can we go back to London to-day?" she asked.

"We can go any time you like," he said.

He felt he had aged years during that morning. No sooner had Esther
got out of his sight at the station than he was beside himself with
remorse for having allowed her to go; he had spent the whole morning
wandering about looking for her. He had been to this hotel a dozen
times; he had only just come in again when she followed.

The relief of having her safely in his charge once more was almost
more than he could bear. He walked over to the door, then stopped and
looked back at her.

"You won't ... you won't run away from me again, will you?" he asked.
For the first time there was real emotion in his voice.

Esther had been sitting looking into the fire; she raised her head
now.

"Don't go," she said tremulously. "Please don't go. I want to speak to
you."

He flushed crimson, he tried to make some excuse.

"Another time.... You're tired. I'll come back presently. You ought to
get some rest if we're to go back to-night."

"No," she said. "It must be now."

He shut the door, but he kept as far away from her as possible,
standing over by the window that looked into the dreary winter
garden.

There was something implacable about his tall figure.

"Oh, won't you come here?" she