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.”
“Chuck him!” advised Mr Goble cordially.
“No, thanks, I couldn’t, really.”
The cloud began to descend again upon Mr Goble’s brow. He was accustomed to having these invitations of his treated as royal commands.
“Come along!”
“I’m afraid it’s impossible.”
Mr Goble subjected her to a prolonged stare, seemed about to speak, changed his mind, and swung off moodily in the direction of the grill-room. He was not used to this sort of treatment.
He had hardly gone, when Wally appeared.
“What was he saying to you?” demanded Wally abruptly, without preliminary greeting.
“He was asking me to lunch.”
Wally was silent for a moment. His good-natured face wore an unwonted scowl.
“He went in there, of course?” he said, pointing to the grill-room.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go into the other room,” said Wally. He regained his good-humor. “It was awfully good of you to come. I didn’t know whether you would be able to.”
“It was very nice of you to invite me.”
Wally grinned.
“How perfect our manners are! It’s a treat to listen! How did you know that that was the one hat in New York I wanted you to wear?”
“Oh, these things get about. Do you like it?”
“It’s wonderful. Let’s take this table, shall we?”
2.
They sat down. The dim, tapestry-hung room soothed Jill. She was feeling a little tired after the rehearsal. At the far end of the room an orchestra was playing a tune that she remembered and liked. Her mind went back to the last occasion on which she and Wally had sat opposite each other at a restaurant. How long ago it seemed! She returned to the present to find Wally speaking to her.
“You left very suddenly the other night,” said Wally.
“I didn’t want to meet Freddie.”
Wally looked at her commiseratingly.
“I don’t want to spoil your lunch,” he said, “but Freddie knows all. He has tracked you down. He met Nelly Bryant, whom he seems to have made friends with in London, and she told him where you were and what you were doing. For a girl who fled at his mere approach the night before last, you don’t seem very agitated by the news,” he said, as Jill burst into a peal of laughter.
“You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“Freddie got Mr Pilkington to put him in the chorus of the piece. He was rehearsing when I arrived at the theatre this morning, and having a terrible time with Mr Miller. And, later on, Mr Goble had a quarrel with the man who was playing the Englishman, and the man threw up his part and Mr Goble said he could get any one in the chorus to play it just as well, and he chose Freddie. So now Freddie is one of the principals, and bursting with pride!”
Wally threw his head back and uttered a roar of appreciation which caused a luncher at a neighboring table to drop an oyster which he was poising in mid-air.
“Don’t make such a noise!” said Jill severely. “Everyone’s looking at you.”
“I must! It’s the most priceless thing I ever heard. I’ve always maintained and I always will maintain that for pure lunacy nothing can touch the musical comedy business. There isn’t anything that can’t happen in musical comedy. ‘Alice in Wonderland’ is nothing to it.”
“Have you felt that, too? That’s exactly how I feel. It’s like a perpetual ‘Mad Hatter’s Tea-Party.’“
“But what on earth made Freddie join the company at all?”
A sudden gravity descended upon Jill. The words had reminded her of the thing which she was perpetually striving to keep out of her thoughts.