Part 13 (1/2)
II
Jill looked at her companion anxiously. Recent events had caused her completely to forget the existence of Lady Underhill. She was always so intensely interested in what she happened to be doing at the moment that she often suffered these temporary lapses of memory. It occurred to her now--too late, as usual--that the Savoy Hotel was the last place in London where she should have come to supper with Wally. It was the hotel where Lady Underhill was staying. She frowned. Life had suddenly ceased to be careless and happy, and had become a problem-ridden thing, full of perplexity and misunderstandings.
”What shall I do?”
Wally Mason started at the sound of her voice. He appeared to be deep in thoughts of his own.
”I beg your pardon?”
”What shall I do?”
”I shouldn't be worried.”
”Derek will be awfully cross.”
Wally's good-humoured mouth tightened almost imperceptibly.
”Why?” he said. ”There's nothing wrong in your having supper with an old friend.”
”N-no,” said Jill doubtfully. ”But....”
”Derek Underhill,” said Wally reflectively. ”Is that Sir Derek Underhill, whose name one's always seeing in the papers?”
”Derek is in the papers a lot. He's an M.P. and all sorts of things.”
”Good-looking fellow. Ah, here's the coffee.”
”I don't want any, thanks.”
”Nonsense. Why spoil your meal because of this? Do you smoke?”
”No, thanks.”
”Given it up, eh? Daresay you're wise. Stunts the growth and increases the expenses.”
”Given it up?”
”Don't you remember sharing one of your father's cigars with me behind the haystack in the meadow? We cut it in half. I finished my half, but I fancy about three puffs were enough for you. Those were happy days!”
”That one wasn't! Of course I remember it now. I don't suppose I shall ever forget it.”
”The thing was my fault, as usual. I recollect I dared you.”
”Yes. I always took a dare.”
”Do you still?”
”What do you mean?”
Wally knocked the ash off his cigarette.