Right Ho, Jeeves

“No. But they did after she got back.” “What?” “Don’t keep saying, ‘What?’ You heard.” “But she hasn’t seen anybody since she got back.” “Oh, no? How about that newt bloke?” “Gussie?” “Precisely. The serpent Fink-Nottle.” This seemed to me absolute gibbering. “But Gussie loves the Bassett.” “You can’t all love this blighted Bassett. What astonishes me is that anyone can do it. He loves Angela, I tell you. And she loves him.” “But Angela handed you your hat before Gussie ever got here.” “No, she didn’t. Couple of hours after.” “He couldn’t have fallen in love with her in a couple of hours.” “Why not? I fell in love with her in a couple of minutes. I worshipped her immediately we met, the popeyed little excrescence.” “But, dash it----” “Don’t argue, Bertie. The facts are all docketed. She loves this newt-nuzzling blister.” “Quite absurd, laddie--quite absurd.” “Oh?” He ground a heel into the carpet--a thing I’ve often read about, but had never seen done before. “Then perhaps you will explain how it is that she happens to come to be engaged to him?” You could have knocked me down with a f. “Engaged to him?” “She told me herself.” “She was kidding you.” “She was not kidding me. Shortly after the conclusion of this afternoon’s binge at Market Snodsbury Grammar School he asked her to marry him, and she appears to have right-hoed without a murmur.” “There must be some mistake.” “There was. The snake Fink-Nottle made it, and by now I bet he realizes it. I’ve been chasing him since 5.30.”