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Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
72
He
did
so,
and
I
commenced
to
don.
“Well,
Jeeves,”
I
said,
reaching
for
the
underlinen,
“here
we
are
again
at
Brinkley
Court
in
the
county
of
Worcestershire.”
“Yes,
sir.”
“A
nice
mess
things
seem
to
have
gone
and
got
themselves
into
in
this
rustic
joint.”
“Yes,
sir.”
“The
rift
between
Tuppy
Glossop
and
my
cousin
Angela
would
appear
to
be
serious.”
“Yes,
sir.
Opinion
in
the
servants’
hall
is
inclined
to
take
a
grave
view
of
the
situation.”
“And
the
thought
that
springs
to
your
mind,
no
doubt,
is
that
I
shall
have
my
work
cut
out
to
fix
things
up?”
“Yes,
sir.”
“You
are
wrong,
Jeeves.
I
have
the
thing
well
in
hand.”
“You
surprise
me,
sir.”
“I
thought
I
should.
Yes,
Jeeves,
I
pondered
on
the
matter
most
of
the
way
down
here,
and
with
the
happiest
results.
I
have
just
been
in
conference
with
Mr.
Glossop,
and
everything
is
taped
out.”
“Indeed,
sir?
Might
I
inquire----”
“You
know
my
methods,
Jeeves.
Apply
them.
Have
you,”
I
asked,
slipping
into
the
shirt
and
starting
to
adjust
the
cravat,
“been
gnawing
on
the
thing
at
all?”
“Oh,
yes,
sir.
I
have
always
been
much
attached
to
Miss
Angela,
and
I
felt
that
it
would
afford
me
great
pleasure
were
I
to
be
able
to
be
of
service
to
her.”
“A
laudable
sentiment.
But
I
suppose
you
drew
blank?”
“No,
sir.
I
was
rewarded
with
an
idea.”
“What
was
it?”
“It
occurred
to
me
that
a
reconciliation
might
be
effected
between
Mr.
Glossop
and
Miss
Angela
by
appealing
to
that
instinct
which
prompts
gentlemen
in
time
of
peril
to
hasten
to
the
rescue
of----”
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