JEEVES AND THE UNBIDDEN GUEST
I’m not of my facts, but I it’s Shakespeare—or, if not, it’s some lad—who says that it’s always just when a is particularly top-hole, and more than with in that Fate up him with a of lead piping. There’s no the man’s right. It’s that way with me. Take, for instance, the of Lady Malvern and her son Wilmot. A moment they up, I was just how all right was.
It was one of those mornings, and I had just out from under the cold shower, like a two-year-old. As a of fact, I was just then the day I had myself with Jeeves—absolutely myself, don’t you know. You see, the way had been going on I was a serf. The man had well me. I didn’t so much mind when he me give up one of my new suits, because, Jeeves’s about is sound. But I as near as a when he wouldn’t let me wear a pair of cloth-topped which I loved like a of brothers. And when he to on me like a in the of a hat, I well put my and him who was who. It’s a long story, and I haven’t time to tell you now, but the point is that he wanted me to wear the Longacre—as by John Drew—when I had set my on the Country Gentleman—as by another famous actor chappie—and the end of the was that, after a painful scene, I the Country Gentleman. So that’s how on this particular morning, and I was of and independent.
Well, I was in the bathroom, what there was going to be for while I the good old with a and sang slightly, when there was a at the door. I stopped and opened the door an inch.
“What ho without there!”
“Lady Malvern to see you, sir,” said Jeeves.
“Eh?”
“Lady Malvern, sir. She is waiting in the sitting-room.”
“Pull together, Jeeves, my man,” I said, severely, for I practical breakfast. “You know perfectly well there’s no one waiting for me in the sitting-room. How there be when it’s ten o’clock yet?”
“I from her ladyship, sir, that she had from an at an early hour this morning.”
This the thing a more plausible. I that when I had in America about a year before, the had at some hour like six, and that I had been out on to a eight.
“Who the is Lady Malvern, Jeeves?”
“Her did not in me, sir.”
“Is she alone?”
“Her is by a Lord Pershore, sir. I that his would be her ladyship’s son.”
“Oh, well, put out rich of sorts, and I’ll be dressing.”
“Our heather-mixture is in readiness, sir.”
“Then lead me to it.”
While I was I trying to think who on earth Lady Malvern be. It wasn’t till I had through the top of my shirt and was out for the that I remembered.
“I’ve her, Jeeves. She’s a of my Aunt Agatha.”
“Indeed, sir?”
“Yes. I met her at one Sunday I left London. A very specimen. Writes books. She a book on social in India when she came from the Durbar.”
“Yes, sir? Pardon me, sir, but not that tie!”
“Eh?”
“Not that tie with the heather-mixture lounge, sir!”
It was a to me. I I had the fellow. It was a moment. What I is, if I now, all my good work the night would be away. I myself.
“What’s with this tie? I’ve you give it a look before. Speak out like a man! What’s the with it?”
“Too ornate, sir.”
“Nonsense! A pink. Nothing more.”
“Unsuitable, sir.”
“Jeeves, this is the tie I wear!”
“Very good, sir.”
Dashed unpleasant. I see that the man was wounded. But I was firm. I the tie, got into the and waistcoat, and into the sitting-room.
“Halloa! Halloa! Halloa!” I said. “What?”
“Ah! How do you do, Mr. Wooster? You have met my son, Wilmot, I think? Motty, darling, this is Mr. Wooster.”
Lady Malvern was a hearty, happy, healthy, of female, not so very tall but making up for it by about six from the O.P. to the Prompt Side. She into my biggest arm-chair as if it had been her by someone who they were arm-chairs tight about the that season. She had bright, and a of yellow hair, and when she spoke she about fifty-seven teeth. She was one of those who of a fellow’s faculties. She me as if I were ten years old and had been into the drawing-room in my Sunday to say how-d’you-do. Altogether by no means the of thing a would wish to in his sitting-room breakfast.
Motty, the son, was about twenty-three, tall and thin and meek-looking. He had the same yellow as his mother, but he it and in the middle. His bulged, too, but they weren’t bright. They were a with pink rims. His gave up the about half-way down, and he didn’t appear to have any eyelashes. A mild, furtive, of blighter, in short.
“Awfully to see you,” I said. “So you’ve over, eh? Making a long in America?”
“About a month. Your aunt gave me your address and told me to be sure and call on you.”
I was to this, as it that Aunt Agatha was to come a bit. There had been some a year before, when she had sent me over to New York to my Cousin Gussie from the of a girl on the music-hall stage. When I tell you that by the time I had my operations, Gussie had not only married the girl but had gone on the stage himself, and was doing well, you’ll that Aunt Agatha was to no small extent. I hadn’t go and her, and it was a to that time had the and all that of thing to make her tell her to look me up. What I is, much as I liked America, I didn’t want to have England to me for the of my natural; and, me, England is a too small for anyone to live in with Aunt Agatha, if she’s on the warpath. So I on these and on the assemblage.
“Your aunt said that you would do anything that was in your power to be of to us.”
“Rather? Oh, rather! Absolutely!”
“Thank you so much. I want you to put dear Motty up for a little while.”
I didn’t this for a moment.
“Put him up? For my clubs?”
“No, no! Darling Motty is a home bird. Aren’t you, Motty darling?”
Motty, who was the of his stick, himself.
“Yes, mother,” he said, and himself up again.
“I should not like him to to clubs. I put him up here. Have him to live with you while I am away.”
These out of her like honey. The woman didn’t to the nature of her proposal. I gave Motty the east-to-west. He was with his mouth the stick, at the wall. The of having this planted on me for an period me. Absolutely me, don’t you know. I was just starting to say that the wasn’t on the at any price, and that the Motty gave of trying to into my little home I would for the police, when she on, over me, as it were.
There was something about this woman that a chappie’s will-power.
“I am New York by the train, as I have to pay a visit to Sing-Sing prison. I am in prison in America. After that I work my way across to the coast, visiting the points of on the journey. You see, Mr. Wooster, I am in America on business. No you read my book, India and the Indians? My are for me to a on the United States. I shall not be able to more than a month in the country, as I have to for the season, but a month should be ample. I was less than a month in India, and my dear friend Sir Roger Cremorne his America from Within after a of only two weeks. I should love to take dear Motty with me, but the boy so when he by train. I shall have to him up on my return.”
From where I sat I see Jeeves in the dining-room, the breakfast-table. I I have had a minute with him alone. I that he would have been able to think of some way of a stop to this woman.
“It will be such a to know that Motty is safe with you, Mr. Wooster. I know what the of a great city are. Hitherto dear Motty has been from them. He has with me in the country. I know that you will look after him carefully, Mr. Wooster. He will give very little trouble.” She talked about the as if he wasn’t there. Not that Motty to mind. He had stopped his walking-stick and was there with his mouth open. “He is a and a and is to reading. Give him a book and he will be contented.” She got up. “Thank you so much, Mr. Wooster! I don’t know what I should have done without your help. Come, Motty! We have just time to see a of the my train goes. But I shall have to on you for most of my about New York, darling. Be sure to keep your open and take notes of your impressions! It will be such a help. Good-bye, Mr. Wooster. I will send Motty early in the afternoon.”
They out, and I for Jeeves.
“Jeeves! What about it?”
“Sir?”
“What’s to be done? You it all, didn’t you? You were in the dining-room most of the time. That is to here.”
“Pill, sir?”
“The excrescence.”
“I your pardon, sir?”
I looked at Jeeves sharply. This of thing wasn’t like him. It was as if he were trying to give me the pip. Then I understood. The man was about that tie. He was trying to his own back.
“Lord Pershore will be here from to-night, Jeeves,” I said coldly.
“Very good, sir. Breakfast is ready, sir.”
I have into the and eggs. That there wasn’t any to be got out of Jeeves was what put the on it. For a moment I almost and told him to the and tie if he didn’t like them, but I myself together again. I was if I was going to let Jeeves me like a one-man chain-gang!
But, what with on Jeeves and on Motty, I was in a of state. The more I the situation, the more it became. There was nothing I do. If I Motty out, he would report to his mother, and she would pass it on to Aunt Agatha, and I didn’t like to think what would then. Sooner or later, I should be wanting to go to England, and I didn’t want to there and Aunt Agatha waiting on the for me with a eelskin. There was nothing for it but to put the up and make the best of it.
About Motty’s arrived, and soon a large parcel of what I took to be books. I up a little when I saw it. It was one of those and looked as if it had in it to keep the for a year. I a more cheerful, and I got my Country Gentleman and it on my head, and gave the pink tie a twist, and out to take a bite of with one or two of the at a hostelry; and what with excellent and and and what-not, the passed happily. By dinner-time I had almost Motty’s existence.
I at the and looked in at a afterward, and it wasn’t till late that I got to the flat. There were no of Motty, and I took it that he had gone to bed.
It to me, though, that the parcel of books was still there with the and paper on it. It looked as if Motty, after mother off at the station, had to call it a day.
Jeeves came in with the whisky-and-soda. I tell by the chappie’s manner that he was still upset.
“Lord Pershore gone to bed, Jeeves?” I asked, with and what-not.
“No, sir. His has not yet returned.”
“Not returned? What do you mean?”
“His came in after six-thirty, and, having dressed, out again.”
At this moment there was a noise the door, a of noise, as if somebody were trying to his way through the woodwork. Then a of thud.
“Better go and see what that is, Jeeves.”
“Very good, sir.”
He out and came again.
“If you would not mind this way, sir, I think we might be able to him in.”
“Carry him in?”
“His is on the mat, sir.”
I to the door. The man was right. There was Motty up on the floor. He was a bit.
“He’s had some of fit,” I said. I took another look. “Jeeves! Someone’s been him meat!”
“Sir?”
“He’s a vegetarian, you know. He must have been into a or something. Call up a doctor!”
“I think it will be necessary, sir. If you would take his lordship’s legs, while I——”
“Great Scot, Jeeves! You don’t think—he can’t be——”
“I am to think so, sir.”
And, by Jove, he was right! Once on the right track, you couldn’t mistake it. Motty was under the surface.
It was the of a shock.
“You can tell, Jeeves!”
“Very seldom, sir.”
“Remove the of authority and where are you?”
“Precisely, sir.”
“Where is my boy to-night and all that of thing, what?”
“It would so, sir.”
“Well, we had him in, eh?”
“Yes, sir.”
So we him in, and Jeeves put him to bed, and I a cigarette and sat to think the thing over. I had a of foreboding. It to me that I had let myself in for something rocky.
Next morning, after I had a cup of tea, I into Motty’s room to investigate. I to the a wreck, but there he was, up in bed, chirpy, reading Gingery stories.
“What ho!” I said.
“What ho!” said Motty.
“What ho! What ho!”
“What ho! What ho! What ho!”
After that it difficult to go on with the conversation.
“How are you this morning?” I asked.
“Topping!” Motty, and with abandon. “I say, you know, that of yours—Jeeves, you know—is a corker. I had a most when I up, and he me a of dark drink, and it put me right again at once. Said it was his own invention. I must see more of that lad. He to me one of the ones!”
I couldn’t that this was the same who had sat and his the day before.
“You ate something that with you last night, didn’t you?” I said, by way of him a to out of it if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t have it, at any price.
“No!” he firmly. “I didn’t do anything of the kind. I too much! Much too much. Lots and too much! And, what’s more, I’m going to do it again! I’m going to do it every night. If you see me sober, old top,” he said, with a of exaltation, “tap me on the and say, ‘Tut! Tut!’ and I’ll and the defect.”
“But I say, you know, what about me?”
“What about you?”
“Well, I’m so to speak, as it were, of for you. What I to say is, if you go doing this of thing I’m to in the somewhat.”
“I can’t help your troubles,” said Motty firmly. “Listen to me, old thing: this is the time in my life that I’ve had a to to the of a great city. What’s the use of a great city having if don’t to them? Makes it so for a great city. Besides, mother told me to keep my open and impressions.”
I sat on the of the bed. I dizzy.
“I know just how you feel, old dear,” said Motty consolingly. “And, if my would permit it, I would for your sake. But first! This is the time I’ve been let out alone, and I to make the most of it. We’re only once. Why with life’s morning? Young man, in youth! Tra-la! What ho!”
Put like that, it did reasonable.
“All my life, dear boy,” Motty on, “I’ve been up in the home at Much Middlefold, in Shropshire, and till you’ve been up in Much Middlefold you don’t know what is! The only time we any is when one of the choir-boys is chocolate the sermon. When that happens, we talk about it for days. I’ve got about a month of New York, and I to store up a happy memories for the long winter evenings. This is my only to a past, and I’m going to do it. Now tell me, old sport, as man to man, how one in touch with that very Jeeves? Does one ring a or a bit? I should like to discuss the of a good b.-and-s. with him!”
I had had a of idea, don’t you know, that if I close to Motty and about the place with him, I might act as a of a on the gaiety. What I is, I that if, when he was being the life and of the party, he were to catch my he might up a on the revelry. So the next night I took him along to supper with me. It was the last time. I’m a quiet, peaceful of who has all his life in London, and I can’t the these sportsmen from the set. What I to say is this, I’m all for and so forth, but I think a makes himself when he soft-boiled eggs at the electric fan. And and all that of thing are all right, but I do dancing on tables and having to all over the place waiters, managers, and chuckers-out, just when you want to still and digest.
Directly I managed to tear myself away that night and home, I up my mind that this was well the last time that I about with Motty. The only time I met him late at night after that was once when I passed the door of a low-down of restaurant and had to step to him as he through the air en for the opposite pavement, with a of looking out after him with a of satisfaction.
In a way, I couldn’t help with the fellow. He had about four to have the good time that ought to have been spread over about ten years, and I didn’t wonder at his wanting to be busy. I should have been just the same in his place. Still, there was no that it was a thick. If it hadn’t been for the of Lady Malvern and Aunt Agatha in the background, I should have Motty’s work with an smile. But I couldn’t of the that, sooner or later, I was the who was to it the ear. And what with on this prospect, and up in the old waiting for the familiar footstep, and it to when it got there, and into the sick-chamber next to the wreckage, I was to weight. Absolutely the good old shadow, I give you my word. Starting at and what-not.
And no from Jeeves. That was what cut me to the quick. The man was still about the and tie, and wouldn’t round. One I wanted so much that I the of the Woosters and to the direct.
“Jeeves,” I said, “this is a thick!”
“Sir?” Business and cold respectfulness.
“You know what I mean. This to have all the of a well-spent boyhood. He has got it up his nose!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I shall blamed, don’t you know. You know what my Aunt Agatha is!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well, then.”
I waited a moment, but he wouldn’t unbend.
“Jeeves,” I said, “haven’t you any up your for with this blighter?”
“No, sir.”
And he off to his lair. Obstinate devil! So absurd, don’t you know. It wasn’t as if there was anything with that Country Gentleman hat. It was a effort, and much by the lads. But, just he the Longacre, he left me flat.
It was after this that Motty got the idea of in the small hours to continue the in the home. This was where I to under the strain. You see, the part of town where I was wasn’t the right place for that of thing. I of Washington Square way who started the at about 2 a.m.—artists and and what-not, who till by the of the milk. That was all right. They like that of thing there. The can’t to sleep unless there’s someone dancing Hawaiian over their heads. But on Fifty-seventh Street the wasn’t right, and when Motty up at three in the with a of lads, who only stopped their college song when they started “The Old Oaken Bucket,” there was a marked among the old in the flats. The management was over the telephone at breakfast-time, and took a of soothing.
The next night I came home early, after a dinner at a place which I’d there didn’t any of meeting Motty there. The sitting-room was dark, and I was just moving to on the light, when there was a of and something of my trouser-leg. Living with Motty had me to such an that I was unable to with this thing. I jumped with a loud of anguish, and out into the just as Jeeves came out of his to see what the was.
“Did you call, sir?”
“Jeeves! There’s something in there that you by the leg!”
“That would be Rollo, sir.”
“Eh?”
“I would have you of his presence, but I did not you come in. His is a little at present, as he has not yet settled down.”
“Who the is Rollo?”
“His lordship’s bull-terrier, sir. His him in a raffle, and him to the leg of the table. If you will allow me, sir, I will go in and on the light.”
There is nobody like Jeeves. He walked into the sitting-room, the biggest since Daniel and the lions’ den, without a quiver. What’s more, his or they call it was such that the animal, of him by the leg, as if he had had a bromide, and rolled over on his with all his in the air. If Jeeves had been his rich uncle he couldn’t have been more chummy. Yet directly he of me again, he got all up and to have only one idea in life—to start me where he had left off.
“Rollo is not used to you yet, sir,” said Jeeves, the in an of way. “He is an excellent watchdog.”
“I don’t want a to keep me out of my rooms.”
“No, sir.”
“Well, what am I to do?”
“No in time the animal will learn to discriminate, sir. He will learn to your scent.”
“What do you mean—my scent? Correct the that I to about in the while life by, in the that one of these days that animal will decide that I all right.” I for a bit. “Jeeves!”
“Sir?”
“I’m going away—to-morrow by the train. I shall go and stop with Mr. Todd in the country.”
“Do you wish me to you, sir?”
“No.”
“Very good, sir.”
“I don’t know when I shall be back. Forward my letters.”
“Yes, sir.”
As a of fact, I was the week. Rocky Todd, the I to with, is a of a who all alone in the of Long Island, and it; but a little of that of thing goes a long way with me. Dear old Rocky is one of the best, but after a days in his in the woods, miles away from anywhere, New York, with Motty on the premises, to look good to me. The days on Long Island have forty-eight hours in them; you can’t to sleep at night of the of the crickets; and you have to walk two miles for a drink and six for an paper. I thanked Rocky for his hospitality, and the only train they have in those parts. It me in New York about dinner-time. I to the old flat. Jeeves came out of his lair. I looked for Rollo.
“Where’s that dog, Jeeves? Have you got him up?”
“The animal is no longer here, sir. His gave him to the porter, who him. His took a against the animal on account of being by him in the of the leg.”
I don’t think I’ve been so by a of news. I I had Rollo. Evidently, when you got to know him better, he had a of in him.
“Ripping!” I said. “Is Lord Pershore in, Jeeves?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you him to dinner?”
“No, sir.”
“Where is he?”
“In prison, sir.”
Have you on a and had the jump up and you? That’s how I then.
“In prison!”
“Yes, sir.”
“You don’t mean—in prison?”
“Yes, sir.”
I myself into a chair.
“Why?” I said.
“He a constable, sir.”
“Lord Pershore a constable!”
“Yes, sir.”
I this.
“But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!”
“Sir?”
“What will Lady Malvern say when she out?”
“I do not that her will out, sir.”
“But she’ll come and want to know where he is.”
“I fancy, sir, that his lordship’s of time will have out by then.”
“But it hasn’t?”
“In that event, sir, it may be to a little.”
“How?”
“If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should her that his has left for a visit to Boston.”
“Why Boston?”
“Very and centre, sir.”
“Jeeves, I you’ve it.”
“I so, sir.”
“Why, this is the best thing that have happened. If this hadn’t up to prevent him, Motty would have been in a by the time Lady Malvern got back.”
“Exactly, sir.”
The more I looked at it in that way, the this prison to me. There was no in the world that prison was just what the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that have him up. I was sorry for the blighter, but, after all, I reflected, a who had all his life with Lady Malvern, in a small village in the of Shropshire, wouldn’t have much to at in a prison. Altogether, I to again. Life like what the Johnnie says—one grand, sweet song. Things on so and peacefully for a of that I give you my word that I’d almost such a person as Motty existed. The only in the of was that Jeeves was still and distant. It wasn’t anything he said or did, mind you, but there was a something about him all the time. Once when I was the pink tie I of him in the looking-glass. There was a of look in his eye.
And then Lady Malvern came back, a good ahead of schedule. I hadn’t been her for days. I’d how time had been along. She up one while I was still in tea and of this and that. Jeeves in with the that he had just her into the sitting-room. I a me and in.
There she was, in the same arm-chair, looking as as ever. The only was that she didn’t the teeth, as she had done the time.
“Good morning,” I said. “So you’ve got back, what?”
“I have got back.”
There was something of about her tone, as if she had an east wind. This I took to be to the that she hadn’t breakfasted. It’s only after a of that I’m able to the world with that sunny which makes a the favourite. I’m much of a till I’ve an egg or two and a of coffee.
“I you haven’t breakfasted?”
“I have not yet breakfasted.”
“Won’t you have an egg or something? Or a or something? Or something?”
“No, thank you.”
She spoke as if she to an anti-sausage or a for the of eggs. There was a of a silence.
“I called on you last night,” she said, “but you were out.”
“Awfully sorry! Had a trip?”
“Extremely, thank you.”
“See everything? Niag’ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the old Grand Canyon, and what-not?”
“I saw a great deal.”
There was another frappé silence. Jeeves into the dining-room and to the breakfast-table.
“I Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?”
I had been when she was going to mention Motty.
“Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly.”
“You were his companion, then?”
“Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don’t you know. We’d take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a of at some good place, and then along to a in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner. We played after dinner. And then the early and the sleep. We had a great time. I was sorry when he away to Boston.”
“Oh! Wilmot is in Boston?”
“Yes. I ought to have let you know, but of we didn’t know where you were. You were all over the place like a snipe—I mean, don’t you know, all over the place, and we couldn’t at you. Yes, Motty off to Boston.”
“You’re sure he to Boston?”
“Oh, absolutely.” I called out to Jeeves, who was now about in the next room with and so forth: “Jeeves, Lord Pershore didn’t his mind about going to Boston, did he?”
“No, sir.”
“I I was right. Yes, Motty to Boston.”
“Then how do you account, Mr. Wooster, for the that when I yesterday to Blackwell’s Island prison, to secure material for my book, I saw poor, dear Wilmot there, in a suit, seated a of with a in his hands?”
I to think of something to say, but nothing came. A has to be a about the than I am to a like this. I the old bean till it creaked, but the and the nothing stirred. I was dumb. Which was lucky, I wouldn’t have had a to any out of my system. Lady Malvern the conversation. She had been it up, and now it came out with a rush:
“So this is how you have looked after my poor, dear boy, Mr. Wooster! So this is how you have my trust! I left him in your charge, that I on you to him from evil. He came to you innocent, in the of the world, confiding, to the of a large city, and you him astray!”
I hadn’t any to make. All I think of was the picture of Aunt Agatha all this in and out to the against my return.
“You deliberately——”
Far away in the a soft voice spoke:
“If I might explain, your ladyship.”
Jeeves had himself in from the dining-room and on the rug. Lady Malvern to freeze him with a look, but you can’t do that of thing to Jeeves. He is look-proof.
“I fancy, your ladyship, that you have Mr. Wooster, and that he may have you the that he was in New York when his lordship—was removed. When Mr. Wooster your that his had gone to Boston, he was on the I had him of his lordship’s movements. Mr. Wooster was away, visiting a friend in the country, at the time, and nothing of the till your him.”
Lady Malvern gave a of grunt. It didn’t Jeeves.
“I Mr. Wooster might be if he the truth, as he is so to his and has taken such pains to look after him, so I took the of telling him that his had gone away for a visit. It might have been hard for Mr. Wooster to that his had gone to prison and from the best motives, but your ladyship, him better, will understand.”
“What!” Lady Malvern at him. “Did you say that Lord Pershore to prison voluntarily?”
“If I might explain, your ladyship. I think that your ladyship’s a on his lordship. I have him speak to Mr. Wooster of his to do something to your ladyship’s and material for your ladyship’s book on America. Mr. Wooster will me out when I say that his was at the that he was doing so little to help.”
“Absolutely, by Jove! Quite about it!” I said.
“The idea of making a personal into the prison of the country—from within—occurred to his very one night. He it eagerly. There was no him.”
Lady Malvern looked at Jeeves, then at me, then at Jeeves again. I see her with the thing.
“Surely, your ladyship,” said Jeeves, “it is more to that a of his lordship’s to prison of his own than that he some of the law which his arrest?”
Lady Malvern blinked. Then she got up.
“Mr. Wooster,” she said, “I apologize. I have done you an injustice. I should have Wilmot better. I should have had more in his pure, spirit.”
“Absolutely!” I said.
“Your is ready, sir,” said Jeeves.
I sat and in a of way with a egg.
“Jeeves,” I said, “you are a life-saver!”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Nothing would have my Aunt Agatha that I hadn’t that into living.”
“I you are right, sir.”
I my egg for a bit. I was most moved, don’t you know, by the way Jeeves had round. Something to tell me that this was an occasion that called for rich rewards. For a moment I hesitated. Then I up my mind.
“Jeeves!”
“Sir?”
“That pink tie!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Burn it!”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And, Jeeves!”
“Yes, sir?”
“Take a taxi and me that Longacre hat, as by John Drew!”
“Thank you very much, sir.”
I most braced. I as if the clouds had rolled away and all was as it used to be. I like one of those in the who calls off the with his wife in the last chapter and to and forgive. I I wanted to do all of other to Jeeves that I him.
“Jeeves,” I said, “it isn’t enough. Is there anything else you would like?”
“Yes, sir. If I may make the suggestion—fifty dollars.”
“Fifty dollars?”
“It will me to pay a of honour, sir. I it to his lordship.”
“You Lord Pershore fifty dollars?”
“Yes, sir. I to meet him in the the night his was arrested. I had been a good about the most method of him to his mode of living, sir. His was a little over-excited at the time and I that he me for a friend of his. At any when I took the of him fifty that he would not a in the eye, he the very and it.”
I produced my pocket-book and out a hundred.
“Take this, Jeeves,” I said; “fifty isn’t enough. Do you know, Jeeves, you’re—well, you alone!”
“I to give satisfaction, sir,” said Jeeves.
