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264
Right Ho, Jeeves
·
P. G. Wodehouse
9
“Tell
me,
Jeeves,”
I
said,
wishing
to
know
the
worst,
“what
sort
of
a
girl
is
this
girl
of
Gussie’s?”
“I
have
not
met
the
young
lady,
sir.
Mr.
Fink-Nottle
speaks
highly
of
her
attractions.”
“Seemed
to
like
her,
did
he?”
“Yes,
sir.”
“Did
he
mention
her
name?
Perhaps
I
know
her.”
“She
is
a
Miss
Bassett,
sir.
Miss
Madeline
Bassett.”
“What?”
“Yes,
sir.”
I
was
deeply
intrigued.
“Egad,
Jeeves!
Fancy
that.
It’s
a
small
world,
isn’t
it,
what?”
“The
young
lady
is
an
acquaintance
of
yours,
sir?”
“I
know
her
well.
Your
news
has
relieved
my
mind,
Jeeves.
It
makes
the
whole
thing
begin
to
seem
far
more
like
a
practical
working
proposition.”
“Indeed,
sir?”
“Absolutely.
I
confess
that
until
you
supplied
this
information
I
was
feeling
profoundly
dubious
about
poor
old
Gussie’s
chances
of
inducing
any
spinster
of
any
parish
to
join
him
in
the
saunter
down
the
aisle.
You
will
agree
with
me
that
he
is
not
everybody’s
money.”
“There
may
be
something
in
what
you
say,
sir.”
“Cleopatra
wouldn’t
have
liked
him.”
“Possibly
not,
sir.”
“And
I
doubt
if
he
would
go
any
too
well
with
Tallulah
Bankhead.”
“No,
sir.”
“But
when
you
tell
me
that
the
object
of
his
affections
is
Miss
Bassett,
why,
then,
Jeeves,
hope
begins
to
dawn
a
bit.
He’s
just
the
sort
of
chap
a
girl
like
Madeline
Bassett
might
scoop
in
with
relish.”
This
Bassett,
I
must
explain,
had
been
a
fellow
visitor
of
ours
at
Cannes;
and
as
she
and
Angela
had
struck
up
one
of
those
effervescent
friendships
which
girls
do
strike
up,
I
had
seen
quite
a
bit
of
her.
Indeed,
in
my
moodier
moments
it
sometimes
seemed
to
me
that
I
could
not
move
a
step
without
stubbing
my
toe
on
the
woman.
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