Part 23 (1/2)
”And some nuts for Bill!”
”Bill?”
”The parrot.”
”Oh, the jolly old parrot! Rather! Well, cheerio!”
”Good-bye.... You've been awfully good to me.”
”Oh, no,” said Freddie uncomfortably. ”Any time you're pa.s.sing....”
”Awfully good.... Well, good-bye.”
”Toodle-oo!”
”Maybe we'll meet again some day.”
”I hope so. Absolutely!”
There was a little scurry of feet. Something warm and soft pressed for an instant against Freddie's cheek, and, as he stumbled back, Nelly Bryant skipped up the steps and vanished through the door.
”Good G.o.d!”
Freddie felt his cheek. He was aware of an odd mixture of embarra.s.sment and exhilaration.
From the area below a slight cough sounded. Freddie turned sharply. A maid in a soiled cap, worn coquettishly over one ear, was gazing intently up through the railings. Their eyes met. Freddie turned a warm pink. It seemed to him that the maid had the air of one about to giggle.
”d.a.m.n!” said Freddie softly, and hurried off down the street. He wondered whether he had made a frightful a.s.s of himself, spraying bank-notes all over the place like that to comparative strangers. Then a vision came to him of Nelly's eyes as they had looked at him in the lamp-light, and he decided--no, absolutely not. Rummy as the gadget might appear, it had been the right thing to do. It was a binge of which he thoroughly approved. A good egg!
II
Jill, when Freddie and Nelly left the room, had seated herself on a low stool, and sat looking thoughtfully into the fire. She was wondering if she had been mistaken in supposing that Uncle Chris was worried about something. This restlessness of his, this desire for movement, was strange in him. Hitherto he had been like a dear old cosy cat, revelling in the comfort which he had just denounced so eloquently. She watched him as he took up his favourite stand in front of the fire.
”Nice girl,” said Uncle Chris. ”Who was she?”
”Somebody Freddie met,” said Jill diplomatically. There was no need to worry Uncle Chris with details of the afternoon's happenings.
”Very nice girl.” Uncle Chris took out his cigar-case. ”No need to ask if I may, thank goodness.” He lit a cigar. ”Do you remember, Jill, years ago, when you were quite small, how I used to blow smoke in your face?”
Jill smiled.
”Of course I do. You said that you were training me for marriage. You said that there were no happy marriages except where the wife didn't mind the smell of tobacco. Well, it's lucky, as a matter of fact, for Derek smokes all the time.”
Uncle Chris took up his favourite stand against the fireplace.
”You're very fond of Derek, aren't you, Jill?”
”Of course I am. You are, too, aren't you?”
”Fine chap. Very fine chap. Plenty of money, too. It's a great relief,” said Uncle Chris, puffing vigorously. ”A thundering relief.”
He looked over Jill's head down the room. ”It's fine to think of you happily married, dear, with everything in the world that you want.”