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Right Ho, Jeeves | P. G. Wodehouse | |
Chapter 2 |
Page 2 of 6 |
"This little trouble of yours. Jeeves has told me everything." He didn't seem any too braced. It's always difficult to be sure, of course, when a chap has dug himself in behind a Mephistopheles beard, but I fancy he flushed a trifle. "I wish Jeeves wouldn't go gassing all over the place. It was supposed to be confidential." I could not permit this tone. "Dishing up the dirt to the young master can scarcely be described as gassing all over the place," I said, with a touch of rebuke. "Anyway, there it is. I know all. And I should like to begin," I said, sinking my personal opinion that the female in question was a sloppy pest in my desire to buck and encourage, "by saying that Madeline Bassett is a charming girl. A winner, and just the sort for you." "You don't know her?" "Certainly I know her. What beats me is how you ever got in touch. Where did you meet?" "She was staying at a place near mine in Lincolnshire the week before last." "Yes, but even so. I didn't know you called on the neighbours." "I don't. I met her out for a walk with her dog. The dog had got a thorn in its foot, and when she tried to take it out, it snapped at her. So, of course, I had to rally round." "You extracted the thorn?" "Yes." "And fell in love at first sight?" "Yes." "Well, dash it, with a thing like that to give you a send-off, why didn't you cash in immediately?" "I hadn't the nerve." |
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Right Ho, Jeeves P. G. Wodehouse |
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