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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
80
Then
I
saw
how
the
thing
could
be
handled.
This
aunt,
I
perceived,
must
fall
into
line
with
my
other
clients.
Tuppy
Glossop
was
knocking
off
dinner
to
melt
Angela.
Gussie
Fink-Nottle
was
knocking
off
dinner
to
impress
the
Bassett.
Aunt
Dahlia
must
knock
off
dinner
to
soften
Uncle
Tom.
For
the
beauty
of
this
scheme
of
mine
was
that
there
was
no
limit
to
the
number
of
entrants.
Come
one,
come
all,
the
more
the
merrier,
and
satisfaction
guaranteed
in
every
case.
“I’ve
got
it,”
I
said.
“There
is
only
one
course
to
pursue.
Eat
less
meat.”
She
looked
at
me
in
a
pleading
sort
of
way.
I
wouldn’t
swear
that
her
eyes
were
wet
with
unshed
tears,
but
I
rather
think
they
were,
certainly
she
clasped
her
hands
in
piteous
appeal.
“Must
you
drivel,
Bertie?
Won’t
you
stop
it
just
this
once?
Just
for
tonight,
to
please
Aunt
Dahlia?”
“I’m
not
drivelling.”
“I
dare
say
that
to
a
man
of
your
high
standards
it
doesn’t
come
under
the
head
of
drivel,
but----”
I
saw
what
had
happened.
I
hadn’t
made
myself
quite
clear.
“It’s
all
right,”
I
said.
“Have
no
misgivings.
This
is
the
real
Tabasco.
When
I
said
‘Eat
less
meat’,
what
I
meant
was
that
you
must
refuse
your
oats
at
dinner
tonight.
Just
sit
there,
looking
blistered,
and
wave
away
each
course
as
it
comes
with
a
weary
gesture
of
resignation.
You
see
what
will
happen.
Uncle
Tom
will
notice
your
loss
of
appetite,
and
I
am
prepared
to
bet
that
at
the
conclusion
of
the
meal
he
will
come
to
you
and
say
‘Dahlia,
darling’--I
take
it
he
calls
you
‘Dahlia’--‘Dahlia
darling,’
he
will
say,
‘I
noticed
at
dinner
tonight
that
you
were
a
bit
off
your
feed.
Is
anything
the
matter,
Dahlia,
darling?’
‘Why,
yes,
Tom,
darling,’
you
will
reply.
‘It
is
kind
of
you
to
ask,
darling.
The
fact
is,
darling,
I
am
terribly
worried.’
‘My
darling,’
he
will
say----”
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