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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
49
I
then
put
my
fortune
to
the
test,
to
win
or
lose
it
all.
It
was
not
a
moment
for
petty
economies.
I
let
myself
go
regardless
of
expense:
No,
but
dash
it,
listen.
Honestly,
you
don’t
want
me.
Get
Fink-Nottle
distribute
prizes.
A
born
distributor,
who
will
do
you
credit.
Confidently
anticipate
Augustus
Fink-Nottle
as
Master
of
Revels
on
thirty-first
inst.
would
make
genuine
sensation.
Do
not
miss
this
great
chance,
which
may
never
occur
again.
Tinkerty-tonk.
Bertie.
There
was
an
hour
of
breathless
suspense,
and
then
the
joyful
tidings
arrived:
Well,
all
right.
Something
in
what
you
say,
I
suppose.
Consider
you
treacherous
worm
and
contemptible,
spineless
cowardly
custard,
but
have
booked
Spink-Bottle.
Stay
where
you
are,
then,
and
I
hope
you
get
run
over
by
an
omnibus.
Love.
Travers.
The
relief,
as
you
may
well
imagine,
was
stupendous.
A
great
weight
seemed
to
have
rolled
off
my
mind.
It
was
as
if
somebody
had
been
pouring
Jeeves’s
pick-me-ups
into
me
through
a
funnel.
I
sang
as
I
dressed
for
dinner
that
night.
At
the
Drones
I
was
so
gay
and
cheery
that
there
were
several
complaints.
And
when
I
got
home
and
turned
into
the
old
bed,
I
fell
asleep
like
a
little
child
within
five
minutes
of
inserting
the
person
between
the
sheets.
It
seemed
to
me
that
the
whole
distressing
affair
might
now
be
considered
definitely
closed.
Conceive
my
astonishment,
therefore,
when
waking
on
the
morrow
and
sitting
up
to
dig
into
the
morning
tea-cup,
I
beheld
on
the
tray
another
telegram.
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