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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
37
“What
madness
not
to
have
had
one
of
those
before
tackling
Aunt
Dahlia!
However,
too
late
to
worry
about
that
now.
Tell
me
of
Gussie.
How
did
he
make
out
at
the
fancy-dress
ball?”
“He
did
not
arrive
at
the
fancy-dress
ball,
sir.”
I
looked
at
him
a
bit
austerely.
“Jeeves,”
I
said,
“I
admit
that
after
that
pick-me-up
of
yours
I
feel
better,
but
don’t
try
me
too
high.
Don’t
stand
by
my
sick
bed
talking
absolute
rot.
We
shot
Gussie
into
a
cab
and
he
started
forth,
headed
for
wherever
this
fancy-dress
ball
was.
He
must
have
arrived.”
“No,
sir.
As
I
gather
from
Mr.
Fink-Nottle,
he
entered
the
cab
convinced
in
his
mind
that
the
entertainment
to
which
he
had
been
invited
was
to
be
held
at
No.
17,
Suffolk
Square,
whereas
the
actual
rendezvous
was
No.
71,
Norfolk
Terrace.
These
aberrations
of
memory
are
not
uncommon
with
those
who,
like
Mr.
Fink-Nottle,
belong
essentially
to
what
one
might
call
the
dreamer-type.”
“One
might
also
call
it
the
fatheaded
type.”
“Yes,
sir.”
“Well?”
“On
reaching
No.
17,
Suffolk
Square,
Mr.
Fink-Nottle
endeavoured
to
produce
money
to
pay
the
fare.”
“What
stopped
him?”
“The
fact
that
he
had
no
money,
sir.
He
discovered
that
he
had
left
it,
together
with
his
ticket
of
invitation,
on
the
mantelpiece
of
his
bedchamber
in
the
house
of
his
uncle,
where
he
was
residing.
Bidding
the
cabman
to
wait,
accordingly,
he
rang
the
door-bell,
and
when
the
butler
appeared,
requested
him
to
pay
the
cab,
adding
that
it
was
all
right,
as
he
was
one
of
the
guests
invited
to
the
dance.
The
butler
then
disclaimed
all
knowledge
of
a
dance
on
the
premises.”
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