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Have you forgotten that telegram I sent to Gussie Fink-Nottle, steering him away from the sausages and ham? This is the same thing. Pushing the food away untasted is a universally recognized sign of love. It cannot fail to bring home the gravy. You must see that?" "Well, sir " I frowned.
I then wrote a well-worded communication to Aunt Dahlia, informing her that I was sending my friend, Augustus Fink-Nottle, down to Brinkley today to enjoy her hospitality, and handed it to Gussie. "Push that in at the first post office you pass," I said. "She will find it waiting for her on her return."
And scarcely had I opened the door when I heard voices in the sitting-room, and scarcely had I entered the sitting-room when I found that these proceeded from Jeeves and what appeared at first sight to be the Devil. A closer scrutiny informed me that it was Gussie Fink-Nottle, dressed as Mephistopheles. "What-ho, Gussie," I said.
Indeed, it would not be too much to say that I gaped. "Mr. Fink-Nottle?" "Yes, sir." "You don't mean Mr. Fink-Nottle?" "Yes, sir." "But Mr. Fink-Nottle's not in London?" "Yes, sir." "Well, I'm blowed." And I'll tell you why I was blowed. I found it scarcely possible to give credence to his statement.
I waved my cold egg courteously, to indicate that she had the floor, and she started again: "I think I know what you are trying to say. You are surprised." "Yes." "You are thinking of " "Exactly." " Mr. Fink-Nottle." "The very man." "You find what I have done hard to understand." "Absolutely." "I don't wonder." "I do." "And yet it is quite simple." She took another cheese straw.
"The gentleman who came to the flat wore horn-rimmed spectacles, sir." "And looked like something on a slab?" "Possibly there was a certain suggestion of the piscine, sir." "Then it must be Gussie, I suppose. But what on earth can have brought him up to London?" "I am in a position to explain that, sir. Mr. Fink-Nottle confided to me his motive in visiting the metropolis.
Honestly, you don't want me. Get Fink-Nottle distribute prizes. A born distributor, who will do you credit. Confidently anticipate Augustus Fink-Nottle as Master of Revels on thirty-first inst. would make genuine sensation. Do not miss this great chance, which may never occur again. Tinkerty-tonk. Bertie.
For the rest, his fists were clenched, his ears quivering, and the muscles of his jaw rotating rhythmically, as if he were making an early supper off something. His hair was full of twigs, and there was a beetle hanging to the side of his head which would have interested Gussie Fink-Nottle. To this, however, I paid scant attention.
"Golly, Jeeves!" "Yes, sir. The words did create a considerable sensation. The reaction of those present to this accusation I should describe as mixed. The young students appeared pleased and applauded vigorously, but Master Simmons's mother rose from her seat and addressed Mr. Fink-Nottle in terms of strong protest." "Did Gussie seem taken aback? Did he recede from his position?" "No, sir.
What I mean is, we now approach the matter of Gussie and Miss Bassett." "Yes, sir." "Here, Jeeves, more direct methods are required. In handling the case of Augustus Fink-Nottle, we must keep always in mind the fact that we are dealing with a poop." "A sensitive plant would, perhaps, be a kinder expression, sir." "No, Jeeves, a poop.
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