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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
256
The
voice
of
the
Bassett
cut
in
on
these
mordant
reflections:
“Bertie.”
“Hullo!”
Silence.
“Hullo!”
I
said
again.
No
response.
Whole
thing
rather
like
one
of
those
telephone
conversations
where
you
sit
at
your
end
of
the
wire
saying:
“Hullo!
Hullo!”
unaware
that
the
party
of
the
second
part
has
gone
off
to
tea.
Eventually,
however,
she
came
to
the
surface
again:
“Bertie,
I
have
something
to
say
to
you.”
“What?”
“I
have
something
to
say
to
you.”
“I
know.
I
said
‘What?’”
“Oh,
I
thought
you
didn’t
hear
what
I
said.”
“Yes,
I
heard
what
you
said,
all
right,
but
not
what
you
were
going
to
say.”
“Oh,
I
see.”
“Right-ho.”
So
that
was
straightened
out.
Nevertheless,
instead
of
proceeding
she
took
time
off
once
more.
She
stood
twisting
the
fingers
and
scratching
the
gravel
with
her
foot.
When
finally
she
spoke,
it
was
to
deliver
an
impressive
boost:
“Bertie,
do
you
read
Tennyson?”
“Not
if
I
can
help.”
“You
remind
me
so
much
of
those
Knights
of
the
Round
Table
in
the
‘Idylls
of
the
King’.”
Of
course
I
had
heard
of
them--Lancelot,
Galahad
and
all
that
lot,
but
I
didn’t
see
where
the
resemblance
came
in.
It
seemed
to
me
that
she
must
be
thinking
of
a
couple
of
other
fellows.
“How
do
you
mean?”
“You
have
such
a
great
heart,
such
a
fine
soul.
You
are
so
generous,
so
unselfish,
so
chivalrous.
I
have
always
felt
that
about
you--that
you
are
one
of
the
few
really
chivalrous
men
I
have
ever
met.”
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