“You see?”
The chappie writhed like an electric fan.
“I won’t do it! I can’t do it! I’ll be hanged if I’ll do it! How on
earth can I dress up like that? Do you realize that most days I don’t
get out of my pyjamas till five in the afternoon, and then I just put
on an old sweater?”
I saw Jeeves wince, poor chap! This sort of revelation shocked his
finest feelings.
“Then, what are you going to do about it?” I said.
“That’s what I want to know.”
“You might write and explain to your aunt.”
“I might—if I wanted her to get round to her lawyer’s in two rapid
leaps and cut me out of her will.”