Right Ho, Jeeves

Jeeves was on the job, adding the final polish to the old topper, and I was about to apprise him of the latest developments in the matter of Gussie, when he forestalled me by observing that the latter had only just concluded an agreeable visit to the Wooster bedchamber. “I found Mr. Fink-Nottle seated here when I arrived to lay out your clothes, sir.” “Indeed, Jeeves? Gussie was in here, was he?” “Yes, sir. He left only a few moments ago. He is driving to the school with Mr. and Mrs. Travers in the large car.” “Did you give him your story of the two Irishmen?” “Yes, sir. He laughed heartily.” “Good. Had you any other contributions for him?” “I ventured to suggest that he might mention to the young gentlemen that education is a drawing out, not a putting in. The late Lord Brancaster was much addicted to presenting prizes at schools, and he invariably employed this dictum.” “And how did he react to that?” “He laughed heartily, sir.” “This surprised you, no doubt? This practically incessant merriment, I mean.” “Yes, sir.” “You thought it odd in one who, when you last saw him, was well up in Group A of the defeatists.” “Yes, sir.” “There is a ready explanation, Jeeves. Since you last saw him, Gussie has been on a bender. He’s as tight as an owl.” “Indeed, sir?” “Absolutely. His nerve cracked under the strain, and he sneaked into the dining-room and started mopping the stuff up like a vacuum cleaner. Whisky would seem to be what he filled the radiator with. I gather that he used up most of the decanter. Golly, Jeeves, it’s lucky he didn’t get at that laced orange juice on top of that, what?”