"We're quite ready," she said. She kept an arm about Esther, and Micky followed them silently. He saw them into the cab, but did not follow. June asked a sharp question: "Aren't you coming?" "No--at least, not if you can manage without me." His voice sounded unnerved; he looked away from June to where Esther was huddled into a corner beside her, and suddenly, as if urged by an impulse he could not control, he leaned forward, groped for her hand in the darkness, and, bending, kissed it passionately. A moment later he had stepped back and shut the door. He stood looking after the cab till it vanished round a corner, then he went back to the theatre for his hat and coat, and set off again down the road. He was not conscious of any real emotion; but he walked swiftly as a man does who has a set purpose, and he did not stop till he found himself outside the Ashtons' house. It was not far off midnight, but lights burned in many of the windows, and after a swift glance at the face of the house he went up the steps and rang the bell. It was some moments before the door was opened by a mildly amazed-looking servant; Micky asked for Mr. Ashton. "My name is Mellowes," he said, as she obviously hesitated. "If you tell him my name he will see me. I know he is in, I saw him at the Comedy Theatre to-night." He stepped past the girl into the hall, and after a slightly scared glance at him she shut the door and departed upstairs. A moment later Micky heard Ashton's voice. "You old night-bird! What an ungodly hour to call on any one! I was just going to bed; come in." He spoke easily, but there was a slightly anxious look in his eyes; he led the way into the library. The fire was nearly out there and the room felt chilly; he shivered, and, stooping, tried to rake the cinders into a blaze. Micky watched him silently; after a moment Ashton turned. "Lord, man! what's the matter? You look as cheerful as Doomsday." Micky was standing stiffly against the table. "I saw you in the theatre to-night," he began without preamble. "I was with Miss Shepstone, and she saw you, too--at least she believes it was you, and I am going to tell her that she was mistaken. How soon can you get out of town and back to Paris?" Ashton stared; the colour had rushed to his face; after a moment his eyes fell. "I don't know what the devil you're driving at," he said irritably. "I suppose I can come to London without asking you first, can't I? And, as for Lallie"--he grinned nervously--"well, you know as well as I do that that's all been off for weeks." Micky stood immovable. "You haven't answered my question," he said flintily. "How soon can you get out of London?" Ashton swore under his breath. "I'm dashed if I know what you're driving at," he said sulkily. "If you like to take Lallie to theatres, that's your business; she's a nice little girl, I admit, but----" Micky took a step forward.