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He left Nedda with many misgivings; but had not the heart to wrench her away. The recovery of a young man who means to get up to-morrow is not so rapid when his head, rather than his body, is the seat of trouble. Derek's temperament was against him. He got up several times in spirit, to find that his body had remained in bed. And this did not accelerate his progress.
The depression induced by absorbing nourishment and endeavouring to make conversation in the presence of Lady Underhill left her. The worst, she told herself, had happened. She had met Derek's mother, and Derek's mother plainly disliked her. Well, that, as Parker would have said, was that. Now she just wanted to enjoy herself. She loved the theatre.
And Freddie, accompanied by his henchmen, ambled off, well pleased with himself. He had, he felt, helped to break the ice for Derek and had seen him safely through those awkward opening stages. Now he could totter off with a light heart and get a bite of lunch. Lady Underhill's eyes glittered. They were small, keen, black eyes, unlike Derek's, which were large and brown.
The paper slipped to the floor. A cold cigar followed it. From the depths of the chair came a faint snore . . . A hand on his shoulder brought Freddie with a jerk troubled dreams. Derek was standing beside him. A tousled Derek, apparently in pain. "Freddie!" "Hullo!" A spasm twisted Derek's face. "Have you got any pepsin?" Derek uttered a groan.
The Town Council of the principal city in Derek's constituency in the north of England had decided that tomorrow morning should witness the laying of the foundation stone of their new Town Hall, and Derek as the sitting member was to preside at the celebration.
"What's the matter, Tom?" "Matter! I don' know as there's anything the matter, ezactly!" "What have I done? Tell me!" Tom Gaunt smiled; his little, gray eyes met Derek's full. "'Tisn't for a gentleman to be held responsible." "Come!" Derek cried passionately. "What is it? D'you think I deserted you, or what? Speak out, man!" Abating nothing of his stare and drawl, Gaunt answered: "Deserted?
The act, with its suggestion of intimate life, gave her a stealthy pleasure; and when Dorothea glided in and caught her sitting in Derek's own chair at the desk, she blushed like a school-girl detected in a crime. It was perhaps this acknowledgment of weakness that enabled Dorothea to speak out, and say what had been for some time on her mind.
Somewhat baffled, Felix proceeded: "I say, Derek, fortunately or unfortunately, I've some claim now to a little knowledge of you. You've got to open out a bit to me. What are you going to do with yourself in life? You can't support Nedda on revolution." Having drawn this bow at a venture, he paused, doubtful of his wisdom. A glance at Derek's face confirmed his doubt.
Left alone, Frances Freeland took her bag a noticeably old one, without any patent clasp whatever, so that she could open it went noiselessly upstairs, tapped on Derek's door, and went in. A faint but cheerful voice remarked: "Halloo, Granny!" Frances Freeland went up to the bed, smiled down on him ineffably, laid a finger on his lips, and said, in the stillest voice: "You mustn't talk, darling!"
A chafer buzzed by, a small black cat played with its tail on some steps in a recess. Nobody passed. The girl's heart was beating fast. Derek's face was so strange and strained. And he had not yet said one word to her. All sorts of fears and fancies beset her till she was trembling all over. "What is it?" she said at last. "You haven't you haven't stopped loving me, Derek?"
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