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"Good-bye, Bevan old thing, you're a ripper. I can't tell you how bucked up I am at the sportsmanlike way you've rallied round. I'll do the same for you one of these days. Just hold the old boy in play for a minute or two while we leg it. And, if he wants us, tell him our address till further notice is Paris. What ho! What ho! What ho! Toodle-oo, laddie, toodle-oo!"
I wish you all a happy new year, and whatever the future may bring I know I can count on you." "Toodle-oo, old bird!" said a kilted cockney, halfway up a ladder, on which he swayed perilously, being very drunk; but the colonel did not hear this familiar way of address.
To this I riposted: On consulting engagement book find impossible come Brinkley Court. Deeply regret. Toodle-oo. Bertie. Hers in reply stuck a sinister note: Oh, so it's like that, is it? You and your engagement book, indeed. Deeply regret my foot. Let me tell you, my lad, that you will regret it a jolly sight more deeply if you don't come down.
"Very good place to be. Go there now." "Right ho! Well, toodle-oo!" "The elevator is at the foot of the stairs," said Wally. "You press the bell and up it comes. You hop in and down you go. It's a great invention! Good night!" "Oh, I say. One moment . . ." "Good night!" said Wally. He closed the door, and ran down the passage. "Jill!" he called. He opened the bedroom window and stepped out.
Rarely in the experience of a lifetime have I encountered a day so absolutely bally in nearly every shape and form, but there was one thing that saved it, and that was its merry old wetness! Toodle-oo, laddie!" "Good evening, sir," said the jeweller. Lucille moved her wrist slowly round, the better to examine the new bracelet. "You really are an angel, angel!" she murmured.
"In that case," said Archie, relieved, "cheerio, good luck, pip-pip, toodle-oo, and good-bye-ee! I'll be shifting!" "Yes, you will!" cried Miss Silverton, energetically, recovering with amazing swiftness from her collapse. "Yes, you will, I by no means suppose! You think, just because I'm no champion with a pistol, I'm helpless. You wait! Percy!" "My name is not Percy." "I never said it was.
"I mean to say, it's nothing to Jeeves what sort of a face you have!" "No!" said Cyril. He spoke a little coldly, I fancied. I don't know why. "Well, I'll be popping. Toodle-oo!" "Pip-pip!" It must have been about a week after this rummy little episode that George Caffyn called me up and asked me if I would care to go and see a run-through of his show.
From first to last this lad didn't foozle a single drive, and his approach-putting has to be seen to be believed. Well, got to dress, I suppose. Mustn't waste life's springtime sitting here talking to you. Toodle-oo, laddie! We shall meet anon!" Lord Belpher leaped from his bed. He was feeling worse than ever now, and a glance into the mirror told him that he looked rather worse than he felt.
Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street. "Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?" "He's upstairs now, having some tea." "What does he think of it all?" "He's absolutely rattled." "Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See you later." "Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy."
He counts on your discretion to preserve secret of his innocence pending further advices. Paul Martin here stopping Hotel Chatham. Toodle-oo. A telegram from London addressed to M. Paul Martin, Hotel Chatham, Paris, was delivered late in the afternoon: "Préfecture tipped off. Many thanks. Heartfelt regrets poor Duchemin's success keeping out of gaol.
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