“What’s the matter?”
“It’s nothing. I meant to send a cable to a pal of mine in England. I’ll send it after lunch.”
Freddie took out his handkerchief, and tied a knot in it. He was slightly ashamed of the necessity of taking such a precaution, but it was better to be on the safe side. His interview with Jill at the theatre had left him with the conviction that there was only one thing for him to do, and that was to cable poor old Derek to forget impending elections and all the rest of it and pop over to America at once. He knew that he would never have the courage to re-open the matter with Jill himself. As an ambassador he was a spent force. If Jill was to be wooed from her mood of intractability, Derek was the only man to do it. Freddie was convinced that, seeing him in person, she would melt and fall into his arms. Too dashed absurd, Freddie felt, two loving hearts being separated like this and all that sort of thing. He replaced his handkerchief in his pocket, relieved, and concentrated himself on the entertainment of Nelly. A simple task, for, the longer he was with this girl, the easier did it seem to talk to her.
Jill, left alone in the lobby, was finding the moments pass quite pleasantly. She liked watching the people as they came in. One or two of the girls of the company fluttered in like birds, were swooped upon by their cavaliers, and fluttered off to the grill-room. The red-headed Babe passed her with a genial nod, and, shortly after, Lois Denham, the willowy recipient of sunbursts from her friend Izzy of the hat-checks, came by in company with a sallow, hawk-faced young man with a furtive eye, whom Jill took—correctly—to be Izzy himself. Lois was looking pale and proud, and from the few words which came to Jill’s ears as they neared her, seemed to be annoyed at having been kept waiting.
It was immediately after this that the swing-doors revolved rather more violently than usual, and Mr Goble burst into view.
There was a cloud upon Mr Goble’s brow, seeming to indicate that his grievance against life had not yet been satisfactorily adjusted: but it passed as he saw Jill, and he came up to her with what he would probably have claimed to be an ingratiating smile.
“Hello!” said Mr Goble. “All alone?”
Jill was about to say that the condition was merely temporary when the manager went on.
“Come and have a bit of lunch.”
“Thank you very much,” said Jill, with the politeness of dislike, “but I’m waiting for someone.”