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Updated: June 6, 2025
He merely stared at him as if he were a blot on the arrangement of the furniture, and said, 'Well? The most difficult parts to play in real life as well as on the stage are those in which no 'business' is arranged for the performer. It was all very well for Mr Bickersdyke.
I have gleaned, from casual chit-chat with my father, that Comrade Bickersdyke also infests the Senior Conservative. You might think that that would make me, seeing how particular I am about whom I mix with, avoid the club. Error. I shall go there every day.
I shall have a chat with Comrade Bickersdyke at the conclusion of the day's work, and I have no doubt that we shall both laugh heartily over this little episode. Mr Waller pulled at his beard, with an expression on his face that seemed to suggest that he was not quite so confident on this point.
He had the patience which is the chief quality of the successful general. He was content to secure his base before making any offensive movement. It was a fortnight before he turned his attention to the education of Mr Bickersdyke. During that fortnight he conversed attractively, in the intervals of work, on the subject of League football in general and Manchester United in particular.
Mr Bickersdyke caught sight of the procession, and started. Psmith set the brandy down very carefully on the table, beside the manager's coffee cup, and, dropping into a chair, regarded him pityingly through his eyeglass. Mike, who felt embarrassed, took a seat some little way behind his companion. This was Psmith's affair, and he proposed to allow him to do the talking.
'Had any trouble with Rossiter yet? 'No, not much. 'He hasn't run you in to Bickersdyke? 'No. 'Pardon my interrupting a conversation between old college chums, said Psmith courteously, 'but I happened to overhear, as I toiled at my desk, the name of Comrade Rossiter. Bannister looked somewhat startled. Mike introduced them. 'This is Smith, he said. 'Chap I was at school with.
Somebody had come in to cash a cheque, and he was working mechanically. Mike walked up the aisle to Mr Bickersdyke's room, and went in. The manager was in his chair at the big table. Opposite him, facing slightly sideways, was a small, round, very red-faced man. Mr Bickersdyke was speaking as Mike entered. 'I can assure you, Sir John he was saying. He looked up as the door opened.
I like the bit where you call the Royal Family "blood-suckers". Even then, it seems you knew how to express yourself fluently and well. Mr Bickersdyke sat up. The hands of the clock had moved again, and he was back in what Psmith had called the live, vivid present. 'What have you got there? he demanded.
'Something of that sort has, I believe, happened, said Psmith. 'He knew, of course, he added, bowing gracefully in Mr Gregory's direction, 'that he was leaving his work in thoroughly competent hands. 'Thank you, said Mr Bickersdyke. 'That will do. You will help Mr Gregory in his department for the time being, Mr Smith. I will arrange for somebody to take your place in your own department.
Mike had thought, as he looked at his back and heard his voice, that something about his appearance or his way of speaking was familiar. He was right. The man in the chair was Mr Bickersdyke, the cross-screen pedestrian. These reunions are very awkward. Mike was frankly unequal to the situation.
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