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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
190
The
mists
cleared
away.
“I
must
have
been
asleep.”
“Yes,
sir.”
“Nature
taking
its
toll
of
the
exhausted
frame.”
“Yes,
sir.”
“And
enough
to
make
it.”
“Yes,
sir.”
“And
now
it’s
nearly
dinner-time,
you
say?
All
right.
I
am
in
no
mood
for
dinner,
but
I
suppose
you
had
better
lay
out
the
clothes.”
“It
will
not
be
necessary,
sir.
The
company
will
not
be
dressing
tonight.
A
cold
collation
has
been
set
out
in
the
dining-room.”
“Why’s
that?”
“It
was
Mrs.
Travers’s
wish
that
this
should
be
done
in
order
to
minimize
the
work
for
the
staff,
who
are
attending
a
dance
at
Sir
Percival
Stretchley-Budd’s
residence
tonight.”
“Of
course,
yes.
I
remember.
My
Cousin
Angela
told
me.
Tonight’s
the
night,
what?
You
going,
Jeeves?”
“No,
sir.
I
am
not
very
fond
of
this
form
of
entertainment
in
the
rural
districts,
sir.”
“I
know
what
you
mean.
These
country
binges
are
all
the
same.
A
piano,
one
fiddle,
and
a
floor
like
sandpaper.
Is
Anatole
going?
Angela
hinted
not.”
“Miss
Angela
was
correct,
sir.
Monsieur
Anatole
is
in
bed.”
“Temperamental
blighters,
these
Frenchmen.”
“Yes,
sir.”
There
was
a
pause.
“Well,
Jeeves,”
I
said,
“it
was
certainly
one
of
those
afternoons,
what?”
“Yes,
sir.”
“I
cannot
recall
one
more
packed
with
incident.
And
I
left
before
the
finish.”
“Yes,
sir.
I
observed
your
departure.”
“You
couldn’t
blame
me
for
withdrawing.”
“No,
sir.
Mr.
Fink-Nottle
had
undoubtedly
become
embarrassingly
personal.”
“Was
there
much
more
of
it
after
I
went?”
“No,
sir.
The
proceedings
terminated
very
shortly.
Mr.
Fink-Nottle’s
remarks
with
reference
to
Master
G.G.
Simmons
brought
about
an
early
closure.”
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