Chapter XXII: Jill Has the Last Word

'Hullo, Doone,' said Nick. 'Come in.'

Michael entered, and flung down his hat.

'Look here, Nick, I've sold you to Manvers and Sir Toby,' he said abruptly.

Jerry saw Nick's quick smile.

'I told 'em you were Vive le Sport,' went on Michael doggedly. 'In fact, I've made a damned fool of myself.'

Nick held out his hand, and they shook in silence.

'Come in and have a drink,' suggested Nick. 'There's a lot I want to tell you. Jerry's here, by the way.'

'How goes it, old thing?' said Jerry, coming across the hall.

'Not so badly.' Michael smiled at her. 'What's the big idea, Jerry?'

'Nick will tell you. It's a long story, but very, very beautiful.'

'Yes. There's a sort of wistful charm about it,' said Nick, leading Michael into the sitting-room. 'Come along in. Jerry, do you know where Jill keeps the glasses?'

'In the kitchen, I expect. What are you going to drink?'

Nick looked at Michael inquiringly.

'Mine's beer,' said Michael, meeting his eyes, and Jerry was aware, uncomprehending, of complete understanding between the two men.

'Well, I don't like beer,' she said, 'so I think I'll go to bed and leave you to discuss the plan of campaign. Good-night.'

'Good-night, old thing,' said Michael.

Nick, behind his back, blew a kiss to her, and then turned to his guest.

'Make yourself comfortable,' he said. 'Tobacco in that box. Help yourself. I'll go and hunt up some glasses.'

A light was burning in the kitchen, but the room appeared to be empty. Nick opened a door in the wall, with great caution, only to discover that it led to the larder. Then he heard a faint noise behind him, and swung round to see Jill emerging from a large cupboard.

'Hullo, Nick,' she said calmly. 'Are you hungry?'

'No. Thirsty. I was looking for some glasses.' He surveyed her with amusement. 'Jill, I've never seen you look untidy before.'

'Haven't you? I've been turning out that cupboard, you see.'

'I do see. The result is most disturbing. Your hair's standing on end, your face is flushed with exertion, and you've got a large black smudge on your nose. This is terribly unusual, Jill. I don't feel I recognise you.'

'If it comes to that, you're hardly yourself, either,' said Jill thoughtfully. 'There's a light in your eyes, Nick, that is new to me. Is it a good world?'

'Divil a doubt of it! Where are those glasses, Jill?'

She laughed. 'You coward! On the top shelf of the dresser.'

'What d'you mean--"coward"?' demanded Nick, turning to the shelf indicated. 'Have you forgotten that I got an O.B.E. in the Great War? "Their memories are short, said he bitterly. They do not remember the men who bled for them. Pints of blood I shed, too."'

'Their memories aren't so bad, really,' said Jill. 'They remember the men who said: "If a woman cropped up in this game I should jack the whole thing up."'

Nick dropped a glass with a crash.

'Jill, you--little--devil!' he said.

Jill looked interested.

'Nick, do you know, I've never been called that before. Dear old chap, don't grind that glass into the linoleum if you can help it.'

'I'm awfully sorry,' said Nick, collecting the fragments. 'For breaking the glass I mean, not for the well-deserved epithet. Jill, I'd clean forgotten that I said that.'

'Their memories are short', said she with satisfaction. 'They forget the harsh things they said about the weaker sex.'

'Weaker! Heaven help us! Jill, I'll buy you another glass. What shall I do with the pieces?'

'Throw them into that bucket. Yes, do. Woolworth's. Sixpence. I'll come with you. I love watching people in Woolworth's. They go in so scornfully--and they come out thrilled.'

'I never go anywhere scornfully--and I'm always thrilled. Jill, tell me, did you _know_, that night?'

'I didn't exactly _know_--I just thought--I don't know, Nick. I can't explain.'

'The world's full of people who can't explain. Jill, am I unusually stupid, do you think?'

'Not for a man. Give her time, Nick.'

'I'd like to give her socks! There _isn't_ any time!'

Jill laughed.

'You'd better be careful,' she warned. 'She isn't the sort of child who'll stand....'

'I know it! Only too well do I know it! Jill, tell me ... no, I'd rather you didn't.'

'Very wise man! Hadn't you better take those glasses along and give your accomplice a drink? You'll find the beer in the dining-room.'

'Right. Thanks, awfully.' He collected two tumblers from the dresser, and moved towards the door. 'Are you going to disappear into that cupboard again?'

'No.' Jill sighed regretfully. 'It's finished.'

'That crowded hour of glorious life is over. Poor little Jill!'

'I like doing it,' said Jill. 'You know where you are with a cupboard.'

'_Jill!_' Nick brandished a glass above her head menacingly. 'If you say one more thing like that--I shan't merely call you names.'

'Well, if you _will_ come and trail the tail of your coat all round my peaceful kitchen, what can you expect?'

'I certainly didn't expect this, and it's a great shock to me. I had no idea you were capable of such provocation.'

'But, Nick, my dear, never before has there been such a perfect opportunity to pull your leg, because ... but I think you'd better go and look after Michael Doone.'

'Confound Michael Doone! "Because" why?'

'You won't like it if I tell you.'

'Never mind. Finish the sentence.'

'Because usually you are so certain. That's why you always get away with everything. Up to now, you've always _known_; just like that. And now you don't know--and everyone else does!'

'I _don't_ like it,' said Nick. 'And I'm going. Good-bye. I mean, good-night!'

Jill watched his dignified exit, her eyes alight with laughter.

'Vive le Sport!' she said softly.