§ 2.
There was a pause. Jill was looking a little grave.
“Wally!”
“Yes?”
She turned her face away, for there was a gleam of mischief in her eyes which she did not wish him to observe.
“Derek was at the party!”
Wally had been about to butter a piece of toast. The butter, jerked from the knife by the convulsive start which he gave, popped up in a semi-circle and plumped onto the tablecloth. He recovered himself quickly.
“Sorry!” he said. “You mustn’t mind that. They want me to be second-string for the ‘Boosting the Butter’ event at the next Olympic Games, and I’m practising all the time. … Underhill was there, eh?”
“Yes.”
“You met him?”