"Jeeves," I said, and I did not trouble to conceal my chagrin, "you
need not pack the Luminous Rabbit."
"Very good, sir."
"Nor the Giant Squirt."
"Very good, sir."
"They have been subjected to destructive criticism, and the zest has
gone. Oh, and Jeeves."
"Sir?"
"Mrs. Travers wishes you, on arriving at Bleaching Court, to
disentangle Mr. Glossop from a dog-girl."
"Very good, sir. I will attend to the matter and will do my best to
give satisfaction."
That Aunt Dahlia had not exaggerated the perilous nature of the
situation was made clear to me on the following afternoon. Jeeves and
I drove down to Bleaching in the two-seater, and we were tooling along
about halfway between the village and the court when suddenly there
appeared ahead of us a sea of dogs and in the middle of it young Tuppy
frisking round one of those largish, corn-fed girls.
He was bending toward her in a devout sort of way, and even at a
considerable distance I could see that his ears were pink. His
attitude, in short, was unmistakably that of a man endeavouring to push
a good thing along; and when I came closer and noted that the girl wore
tailor-made tweeds and thick boots, I had no further doubts.
"You observe, Jeeves?" I said in a low, significant voice.
"Yes, sir."
"The girl, what?"
"Yes, sir."
I tootled amiably on the horn and yodelled a bit. They turned--Tuppy, I
fancied, not any too pleased.
"Oh, hullo, Bertie," he said.
"Hullo," I said.
"My friend Bertie Wooster," said Tuppy to the girl, in what seemed to
me rather an apologetic manner. You know--as if he would have preferred
to hush me up.
"Hullo," said the girl.
"Hullo," I said.
"Hullo, Jeeves," said Tuppy.
"Good-afternoon, sir," said Jeeves.
There was a somewhat constrained silence.
"Well, good-bye, Bertie," said young Tuppy. "You'll be wanting to push
along, I expect."
We Woosters can take a hint as well as the next man.
"See you later," I said.
"Oh, rather," said Tuppy.