"Yes, sir."
"What is it?"
"Aniseed, sir."
"Aniseed?"
"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster sprinkles it on his trousers."
"Sprinkles it on his trousers?"
"Yes, sir."
"What on earth does he do that for?"
"I could not say, sir. Mr. Wooster's motives are always somewhat hard
to follow. He is eccentric."
"Eccentric? He must be a loony."
"Yes, sir."
"You mean he is?"
"Yes, sir."
There was a pause. A long one.
"Oh?" said old Blumenfeld, and it seemed to me that a good deal of what
you might call the vim had gone out of his voice. He paused again. "Not
_dangerous_?"
"Yes, sir, when roused."
"Er--what rouses him chiefly?"
"One of Mr. Wooster's peculiarities is that he does not like the sight
of gentlemen of full habit, sir. They seem to infuriate him."
"You mean, fat men?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why?"
"One cannot say, sir."
There was another pause.
"_I'm_ fat!"
"I would not have ventured to suggest it myself, sir, but as you say
so----You may recollect that, on being informed that you were to be
a member of the luncheon party, Mr. Wooster, doubting his power of
self-control, refused to be present."
"That's right. He went rushing out just as I arrived. I thought it odd
at the time. My son thought it odd. We both thought it odd."
"Yes, sir. Mr. Wooster, I imagine, wished to avoid any possible
unpleasantness, such as has occurred before. With regard to the smell
of aniseed, sir, I fancy it proceeds from behind the settee. No doubt
Mr. Wooster is sleeping there."
"Doing what?"
"Sleeping, sir."
"Does he often sleep on the floor?"
"Most afternoons, sir. Would you desire me to wake him?"
"No!"
"I thought you had something that you wished to say to Mr. Wooster,
sir?"
Old Blumenfeld drew a deep breath.
"So did I," he said. "But I find I haven't. Just get me out of here
alive, that's all I ask."
I heard the door close, and a little while later the front door banged.
I crawled out. It hadn't been any too cozy behind the settee, and I was
glad to be elsewhere. Jeeves trickled back.
"Gone, Jeeves?"
"Yes, sir."