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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.
I lit a cigarette and began to ponder. Most chaps in my position, I imagine, would have pondered all the rest of the evening without getting a bite, but we Woosters have an uncanny knack of going straight to the heart of things, and I don't suppose it was much more than ten minutes after I had started pondering before I saw what had to be done.
It seemed to me that what Gussie needed was not so much the advice of a seasoned man of the world as a padded cell in Colney Hatch and a couple of good keepers to see that he did not set the place on fire. Indeed, for an instant I had half a mind to withdraw from the case and hand it back to Jeeves. But the pride of the Woosters restrained me.
But the Woosters are quicker-witted than the ordinary and can read between the lines. I suddenly divined what it was that she was trying to get off the chest. "You mean there's someone else?" She nodded. "You're in love with some other bloke?" She nodded. "Engaged, what?" This time she shook the pumpkin. "No, not engaged." Well, that was something, of course.
"We Woosters are ingenious, Jeeves, exceedingly ingenious." "Yes, sir." "As a matter of fact, I am not speaking without a knowledge of the form book. I have tested this theory." "Indeed, sir?" "Yes, in person. And it works.
Even when displaying the iron hand, we Woosters like to keep the thing fairly matey. However, on consideration, I saw that there was nothing to be gained by trying to lead up to it gently. It is never any use beating about the b. "Jeeves," I said, "may I speak frankly?" "Certainly, sir." "What I have to say may wound you." "Not at all, sir." "Well, then, I have been having a chat with Mr.
"Madeline Bassett has gone to stay with these people in the country, and I want to know what he thinks I ought to do." "Well, as I say, Jeeves is off the case." "But, Bertie, dash it " "Jeeves," I said with a certain asperity, "is no longer on the case. I am now in sole charge." "But what on earth can you do?" I curbed my resentment. We Woosters are fair-minded.
A lesser man, caught in this awful snare, would no doubt have thrown in the towel at once and ceased to struggle; but the whole point about the Woosters is that they are not lesser men. By way of a start, I read the note again. Not that I had any hope that a second perusal would enable me to place a different construction on its contents, but it helped to fill in while the brain was limbering up.
"But her heart is aching." "I know it's aching. But so is somebody else's." She looked at me, perplexed. "Somebody else? Mr. Glossop's, you mean?" "No, I don't." "Mrs. Travers's?" The exquisite code of politeness of the Woosters prevented me clipping her one on the ear-hole, but I would have given a shilling to be able to do it.
We Woosters are as quick as lightning, and I saw at once that something had happened. I mean to say, I told you about him walking round in circles. I recorded what passed between us on the lawn.
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