"But why? You can't be doing this for fun, surely?"
"Fun!" A pained expression came into Freddie's face. "My idea of fun isn't anything in which jolly old Miller, the bird with the snowy hair, is permitted to mix. Something tells me that that lad is going to make it his life-work picking on me. No, I didn't do this for fun. I had a talk with Wally Mason the night before last, and he seemed to think that being in the chorus wasn't the sort of thing you ought to be doing, so I thought it over and decided that I ought to join the troupe too. Then I could always be on the spot, don't you know, if there was any trouble. I mean to say, I'm not much of a chap and all that sort of thing, but still I might come in handy one of these times. Keep a fatherly eye on you, don't you know, and what not!"
Jill was touched. "You're a dear, Freddie!"
"I thought, don't you know, it would make poor old Derek a bit easier in his mind."
Jill froze.
"I don't want to talk about Derek, Freddie, please."
"Oh, I know what you must be feeling. Pretty sick, I'll bet, what? But if you could see him now...."
"I don't want to talk about him!"
"He's pretty cut up, you know. Regrets bitterly and all that sort of thing. He wants you to come back again."
"I see! He sent you to fetch me?"