Mickey almost snatched it from her; he had not even glanced at the writing, but he knew it must be from Esther. He sat down at the breakfast table with his thoughts in a whirl; he was sure that the waiter must know how excited he felt. He ordered coffee and rolls before he opened the envelope; he laid it down on the cloth beside him and stared at it very much as a sentimental girl might stare at her first love-letter, hesitating to open it, wishing to prolong the ultimate delight. Finally he cut it open carefully and drew out the contents. His pulses were racing, he did not know if shame or delight were the greatest emotion in his heart; he glanced at the first two words and the blood rushed to his face. It seemed almost sacrilege to read what she had written to the man she loved--he pushed the paper back into its envelope--he did not look at it again till he had finished his pretence of a meal, then he took it out with him into the rather dingy winter garden and sat down in the quietest corner he could find. There he faced the greatest moment of his life; as to whether he should go on with this thing or wipe it out of his life once and for all. Ashton had done with Esther; he was as sure of that as he was sure that Ashton meant to marry Mrs. Clare. This being so, was it wrong of him to try and give Esther some happiness in place of what she had lost? She had refused to marry him--she had said that she could never care for him; could he hope to make her change her mind? In his heart he was sure that he could; he wanted her so badly that it seemed to him as if the very force of his desire must compel some return from her. He sat staring down the dismal garden with moody eyes. He knew it was a big risk; he thought of her as he had first seen her and as he had last seen her. He had never once really thought that she looked happy--she had never quite lost the shadow in her eyes or the droop to her lips which he had at first noticed, and he wanted her to be happy. He wanted her happiness far more than he wanted his own. He took the letter from his pocket and looked at the address on the envelope. "Raymond Ashton, Esq...." He hated the sight of that name--some day Esther would hate it too, when she knew how he had deceived her. It was a great risk--but ... "I'll chance it," said Mickey under his breath, and drew out the letter again.