Right Ho, Jeeves | Page 6

as I say, what-hoed with civil
nonchalance.
He grinned through the fungus--rather sheepishly, I thought.
"Oh, hullo, Bertie."
"Long time since I saw you. Have a spot?"
"No, thanks. I must be off in a minute. I just came round to ask Jeeves
how he thought I looked. How do you think I look, Bertie?"
Well, the answer to that, of course, was "perfectly foul". But we
Woosters are men of tact and have a nice sense of the obligations of a
host. We do not tell old friends beneath our roof-tree that they are an
offence to the eyesight. I evaded the question.
"I hear you're in London," I said carelessly.
"Oh, yes."
"Must be years since you came up."
"Oh, yes."

"And now you're off for an evening's pleasure."
He shuddered a bit. He had, I noticed, a hunted air.
"Pleasure!"
"Aren't you looking forward to this rout or revel?"
"Oh, I suppose it'll be all right," he said, in a toneless voice. "Anyway, I
ought to be off, I suppose. The thing starts round about eleven. I told
my cab to wait.... Will you see if it's there, Jeeves?"
"Very good, sir."
There was something of a pause after the door had closed. A certain
constraint. I mixed myself a beaker, while Gussie, a glutton for
punishment, stared at himself in the mirror. Finally I decided that it
would be best to let him know that I was abreast of his affairs. It might
be that it would ease his mind to confide in a sympathetic man of
experience. I have generally found, with those under the influence, that
what they want more than anything is the listening ear.
"Well, Gussie, old leper," I said, "I've been hearing all about you."
"Eh?"
"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."
"What happened?"
"We talked for a bit."
"What about?"
"Oh, birds."

"Birds? What birds?"
"The birds that happened to be hanging round. And the scenery, and all
that sort of thing. And she said she was going to London, and asked me
to look her up if I was ever there."
"And even after that you didn't so much as press her hand?"
"Of course not."
Well, I mean, it looked as though there was no more to be said. If a
chap is such a rabbit that he can't get action when he's handed the thing
on a plate, his case would appear to be pretty hopeless. Nevertheless, I
reminded myself that this non-starter and I had been at school together.
One must make an effort for an old school friend.
"Ah, well," I said, "we must see what can be done. Things may
brighten. At any rate, you will be glad to learn that I am behind you in
this enterprise. You have Bertram Wooster in your corner, Gussie."
"Thanks, old man. And Jeeves, of course, which is the thing that really
matters."
I don't mind admitting that I winced. He meant no harm, I suppose, but
I'm bound to say that this tactless speech nettled me not a little. People
are always nettling me like that. Giving me to understand, I mean to
say, that in their opinion Bertram Wooster is a mere cipher and that the
only member