“And he’d been retired then for eleven years?”
Johnny smiled briefly. “If my arithmetic isn’t off, I guess you’re right.”
“How was he?”
“Fine.” Johnny folded his hands and waited patiently for the next question. Peggy suddenly felt herself caught up in a mystery she didn’t understand. It was clear to her that Johnny Dwyer was not going to co-operate even though he had the information Peter wanted so desperately. She waited for the next move anxiously.
Peter leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. “Johnny,” he said with quiet sincerity, “let me explain why we want to get in touch with Tom Agate.” He proceeded to tell Johnny about Innocent Laughter and the part reserved for Tom. “It’s a wonderful opportunity for him,” he concluded. “And, of course, I’m convinced that Tom would be ideal in the part.”
Johnny Dwyer sat perfectly still for several seconds after Peter had finished talking. At last he lifted himself to his feet, picked up his cane, and walked over to the window. Peggy noticed again how tiny and fragile he looked. “Peter, my boy,” he said finally, “I’m glad you feel that way about Tom. It’s nice to know that somebody still remembers him.”
“I’m sure that thousands of people all over the country remember him!” Peter interrupted excitedly.
Johnny smiled and nodded. “Perhaps. But Tom had his reasons for leaving when he did, and I don’t think anybody has the right to force him back. It’s a decision he’s got to make.”
Peter got up and walked over to Johnny. “I agree with you,” he said. “But we’re not going to force him. All I want is a chance to talk to him. He can make up his own mind.”
The two men—one old, the other young—stood staring at each other. Johnny Dwyer looked into Peter’s eyes as though he were trying to read his mind, then turned away. “No,” he said. “Get somebody else.”