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Updated: April 30, 2025
Derek's voice interrupted her thoughts: "I'm awfully thirsty, Granny." "Yes, darling. Don't move your head; and just let me pop in some of this delicious lemonade with a spoon." Nedda, returning, found her supporting his head with one hand, while with the other she kept popping in the spoon, her soul smiling at him lovingly through her lips and eyes.
"I wanted to have, a bit of a talk with you about that being engaged and all that sort of thing. I'm glad I got you alone before the Curse arrived." "Curse? Do you mean Derek's mother? That sounds cheerful and encouraging." "Well, she is, you know," said Freddie earnestly. "She's a bird! It would be idle to deny it. She always puts the fear of God into me. I never know what to say to her."
Freddie leaped from his seat. The suddenness of the action sent a red-hot corkscrew of pain through Derek's head. "What the devil's the matter?" he demanded irritably. Even the gentle mood which comes with convalescence after a City Dinner is not guaranteed to endure against this sort of thing. "I've got an idea, old bean!" "Well, there's no need to dance, is there?"
And just as she had stooped to pick one it was no flower, but Tryst's white-banded face! She woke with a little cry. She was dressed by eight and went at once to Derek's room. There was no answer to her knock, and in a flutter of fear she opened the door. He had gone packed, and gone. She ran back to the hall. There was a note for her in the office, and she took it out of sight to read.
Like some loving dog, who, ordered home, sneaks softly on through alleys and by-ways, peeping round corners and crouching behind lamp-posts, the faithful Freddie had followed him after all. And with him, to add the last touch to Derek's discomfiture, were those two inseparable allies of his, Ronny Devereux and Algy Martyn.
"Of course, dear old Derek's the finest chap in the world." "I know that," said Jill softly. She patted Freddie's hand with a little gesture of gratitude. Freddie's devotion to Derek was a thing that always touched her. She looked thoughtfully into the fire, and her eyes seemed to glow in sympathy with the glowing coals. "There's nobody like him!"
The field dipped sharply to a stream, and at the crossing Derek came suddenly on the little 'dot-here dot-there' cowherd, who, at Derek's greeting, gave him an abrupt "Good day!" and went on with his occupation of mending a hurdle. Again that miserable feeling beset the boy, and he hastened on. A sound of chopping guided him. Near the edge of the coppice Tom Gaunt was lopping at some bushes.
I hope you'll be able to manage, my child." Nedda left him at the door of his room and went into her own. After waiting there ten minutes she stole out again. It was all quiet, and she went resolutely back down the stairs. She did not care who saw her or what they thought. Probably they took her for Derek's sister; but even if they didn't she would not have cared.
Sheila, of course, is one of these hot-headed young women that make themselves a nuisance nowadays, but she's intelligible. By the way, that fellow Cuthcott's a queer chap!" One subject of conversation at dinner had been the morality of revolutionary violence. And the saying that had really upset John had been Derek's: "Conflagration first morality afterward!"
"What it would mean?" "Well, your mother . . ." "Oh!" Derek dismissed Lady Underhill with a grand gesture. "Yes," persisted Jill, "but, if she disapproved of your marrying me before, wouldn't she disapprove a good deal more now, when I haven't a penny in the world and am just in the chorus . . ." A sort of strangled sound proceeded from Derek's throat. "In the chorus!" "Didn't you know?
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