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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
57
I
must
say
I
saw
the
girl’s
viewpoint.
It’s
only
about
once
in
a
lifetime
that
anything
sensational
ever
happens
to
one,
and
when
it
does,
you
don’t
want
people
taking
all
the
colour
out
of
it.
I
remember
at
school
having
to
read
that
stuff
where
that
chap,
Othello,
tells
the
girl
what
a
hell
of
a
time
he’d
been
having
among
the
cannibals
and
what
not.
Well,
imagine
his
feelings
if,
after
he
had
described
some
particularly
sticky
passage
with
a
cannibal
chief
and
was
waiting
for
the
awestruck
“Oh-h!
Not
really?”,
she
had
said
that
the
whole
thing
had
no
doubt
been
greatly
exaggerated
and
that
the
man
had
probably
really
been
a
prominent
local
vegetarian.
Yes,
I
saw
Angela’s
point
of
view.
“But
don’t
tell
me
that
when
he
saw
how
shirty
she
was
about
it,
the
chump
didn’t
back
down?”
“He
didn’t.
He
argued.
And
one
thing
led
to
another
until,
by
easy
stages,
they
had
arrived
at
the
point
where
she
was
saying
that
she
didn’t
know
if
he
was
aware
of
it,
but
if
he
didn’t
knock
off
starchy
foods
and
do
exercises
every
morning,
he
would
be
getting
as
fat
as
a
pig,
and
he
was
talking
about
this
modern
habit
of
girls
putting
make-up
on
their
faces,
of
which
he
had
always
disapproved.
This
continued
for
a
while,
and
then
there
was
a
loud
pop
and
the
air
was
full
of
mangled
fragments
of
their
engagement.
I’m
distracted
about
it.
Thank
goodness
you’ve
come,
Bertie.”
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