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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
241
“Well,
well,
well.
God
bless
my
soul,
ring
the
bell,
then.”
“The
fire
bell?”
“The
door
bell.”
“To
what
end,
Thomas?
There’s
nobody
in
the
house.
The
servants
are
all
at
Kingham.”
“But,
confound
it
all,
we
can’t
stop
out
here
all
night.”
“Can’t
we?
You
just
watch
us.
There
is
nothing--literally
nothing--which
a
country
house
party
can’t
do
with
Attila
here
operating
on
the
premises.
Seppings
presumably
took
the
back-door
key
with
him.
We
must
just
amuse
ourselves
till
he
comes
back.”
Tuppy
made
a
suggestion:
“Why
not
take
out
one
of
the
cars
and
drive
over
to
Kingham
and
get
the
key
from
Seppings?”
It
went
well.
No
question
about
that.
For
the
first
time,
a
smile
lit
up
Aunt
Dahlia’s
drawn
face.
Uncle
Tom
grunted
approvingly.
Anatole
said
something
in
Provençal
that
sounded
complimentary.
And
I
thought
I
detected
even
on
Angela’s
map
a
slight
softening.
“A
very
excellent
idea,”
said
Aunt
Dahlia.
“One
of
the
best.
Nip
round
to
the
garage
at
once.”
After
Tuppy
had
gone,
some
extremely
flattering
things
were
said
about
his
intelligence
and
resource,
and
there
was
a
disposition
to
draw
rather
invidious
comparisons
between
him
and
Bertram.
Painful
for
me,
of
course,
but
the
ordeal
didn’t
last
long,
for
it
couldn’t
have
been
more
than
five
minutes
before
he
was
with
us
again.
Tuppy
seemed
perturbed.
“I
say,
it’s
all
off.”
“Why?”
“The
garage
is
locked.”
“Unlock
it.”
“I
haven’t
the
key.”
“Shout,
then,
and
wake
Waterbury.”
“Who’s
Waterbury?”
“The
chauffeur,
ass.
He
sleeps
over
the
garage.”
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