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You've certainly made the biggest kind of hit with Bat. I haven't seen him so worked up over a thing in years. Well, that's all, I reckon. Guess I'll be pushing along. I've a date to keep. Glad to have met you. Glad to have met you, Mr. Smith. Pardon me, you have an insect on your coat." He flicked at Psmith's coat with a quick movement. Psmith thanked him gravely.
It was he who suggested that the wooden bar which ran across the window was unnecessary, but it was Mike who wrenched it from its place. Similarly, it was Mike who abstracted the key from the door of the next study, though the idea was Psmith's. "Privacy," said Psmith, as he watched Mike light the Etna, "is what we chiefly need in this age of publicity.
Comrade Prebble repeated his observation. Mike looked helplessly at Psmith, but Psmith's eyes were on his plate. Mike felt he must venture on some answer. 'No, he said decidedly. Comrade Prebble seemed slightly taken aback. There was an awkward pause. Then Mr Waller, for whom his fellow Socialist's methods of conversation held no mysteries, interpreted. 'The mustard, Prebble? Yes, yes.
He heard the gradually swelling applause in a sort of dream. It seemed to him hours before he reached the dressing-room. He was sitting on a chair, wishing that somebody would come along and take off his pads, when Psmith's card was brought to him. A few moments later the old Etonian appeared in person. 'Hullo, Smith, said Mike, 'By Jove! I'm done.
"I never heard of such a thing," said Mr. Wilberfloss. A faint, sad smile played across Psmith's face. "Do you remember, Comrade Waterman I fancy it was to you that I made the remark my commenting at our previous interview on the rashness of confusing the unusual with the improbable? Here we see Comrade Wilberfloss, big-brained though he is, falling into error." "I shall dismiss Mr.
Mike was tired after his journey, and he had begun to doze when he was jerked back to wakefulness by the stealthy turning of the door-handle; the faintest rustle from Psmith's direction followed, and a slight giggle, succeeded by a series of deep breaths, showed that Jellicoe, too, had heard the noise. There was a creaking sound.
The Archaeological Society expeditions, even though they carried with them the privilege of listening to Psmith's views on life, proved but a poor substitute for cricket. Psmith, who had no counter-attraction shouting to him that he ought to be elsewhere, seemed to enjoy them hugely, but Mike almost cried sometimes from boredom. It was not always possible to slip away from the throng, for Mr.
"I should imagine that a benevolent Law will put him away in his little cell for at least a brief spell." "Not on your life," said Billy. "He'll prove an alibi." Psmith's eyeglass dropped out of his eye. He replaced it, and gazed, astonished, at Billy. "An alibi? When three keen-eyed men actually caught him at it?" "He can find thirty toughs to swear he was five miles away."
Mike, as he watched him, began to appreciate Psmith's reasons for feeling some doubt as to what would be his future walk in life. At lunch that day Mike sat next to Mr Smith, and improved his acquaintance with him; and by the end of the week they were on excellent terms. Psmith's father had Psmith's gift of getting on well with people.
Psmith's attitude towards archaeological research struck a new note in the history of that neglected science. He was amiable, but patronising. He patronised fossils, and he patronised ruins. If he had been confronted with the Great Pyramid, he would have patronised that. He seemed to be consumed by a thirst for knowledge.
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