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Right Ho, Jeeves | P. G. Wodehouse | |
Chapter 22 |
Page 5 of 11 |
"A very excellent idea," said Aunt Dahlia. "One of the best. Nip round to the garage at once." After Tuppy had gone, some extremely flattering things were said about his intelligence and resource, and there was a disposition to draw rather invidious comparisons between him and Bertram. Painful for me, of course, but the ordeal didn't last long, for it couldn't have been more than five minutes before he was with us again. Tuppy seemed perturbed. "I say, it's all off." "Why?" "The garage is locked." "Unlock it." "I haven't the key." "Shout, then, and wake Waterbury." "Who's Waterbury?" "The chauffeur, ass. He sleeps over the garage." "But he's gone to the dance at Kingham." It was the final wallop. Until this moment, Aunt Dahlia had been able to preserve her frozen calm. The dam now burst. The years rolled away from her, and she was once more the Dahlia Wooster of the old yoicks-and-tantivy days--the emotional, free-speaking girl who had so often risen in her stirrups to yell derogatory personalities at people who were heading hounds. |
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Right Ho, Jeeves P. G. Wodehouse |
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