I STOOD there with my hand out, frozen to the spot. The faculties seemed numbed. I remember once, when I was in New York, one of those sad-eyed Italian kids who whizz about Washington Square on roller skates suddenly projected himself with extraordinary violence at my waistcoat as I strolled to and fro, taking the air. He reached journey's end right on the third button from the top, and I had much the same sensation now as I had had then. A sort of stricken feeling. Stunned. Breathless. As if somebody had walloped the old soul unexpectedly with a sandbag. " What!
" " Yes, sir." " No butter ? " " No butter, sir." " But, Jeeves, this is frightful." *' Most disturbing, sir." ' If Jeeves has a fault, it is that his demeanour on these occasions too frequently tends to be rather more calm and unemotional than one could wish. One lodges no protest, as a rule, because he generally has the situation well in hand and loses no time in coming before the Board with
one of his ripe solutions. But I have often felt that I could do with a little more leaping about with rolling eyeballs on his part, and I felt it now. At a moment like the present, the adjective <( disturbing "
seemed to me to miss the facts by about ten parasangs. " But what shall I do ? " " I fear that it will be necessary to postpone the cleansing of your face till a later date, sir. I shall be in a position to supply you with butter tomorrow." " But to-night ? " " To-night, I am afraid, sir, you must be content to remain in statu quo." " Eh ? " " A Latin expression, sir." " You mean nothing can be done till to-morrow ? " " I fear not, sir. It is vexing." "You would go so far as to describe it as that?" " Yes, sir. Most vexing." I breathed a bit tensely. " Oh, well, just as you say, Jeeves." I pondered. " And what do I do in the meantime ? " " As you have had a somewhat trying evening, I think it would be best, sir, if you were to get a good sleep." " On the lawn ? " " If I might make the suggestion, sir, I think you would be more comfortable in the Dower
House. It is only a short distance across the park, and it is unoccupied." " It can't be. They wouldn't leave it empty." " One of the gardeners is acting as caretaker while her ladyship and Master Seabury are visiting the Hall, but at this hour he is always down at the'
Chuffnell Arms' in the village. It would be quite simple for you to effect an entrance and establish yourself in one of the upper rooms without his cognizance. And to-morrow morning I could join you therewith the necessary materials." I confess it wasn't my idea of a frightfully large evening. " You've nothing brighter to suggest ? " " No, sir." "
You wouldn't consider letting me have your bed for the night ? " " No, sir." *' Then I might as well be moving." " Yes, sir." " Good night, Jeeves," I said moodily. " Good night, sir." It didn't take me long to get to the Dower House, and the trip seemed shorter than it actually was, because my mind was occupied in transit with a sort of series of silent Hymns of Hate directed at the various blokes who had combined to land me in what Jeeves would have called this vexing situation-featuring little Seabury. The more I thought of this stripling, the more the iron entered into my soul. And one result of my meditations regarding him was to engender-I think it's engender-an emotion towards Sir Roderick Glossop which came pretty near to being a spirit of kindliness. You know how it is. You go along for years looking on a fellow as a blister and a menace to the public weal, and then one day you suddenly hear of some decent thing he's done and it makes you feel there must be good in the chap, after all. It was so in the matter of this Glossop. I had suffered much at his hands since first our paths had crossed. In the human Zoo which Fate has caused to centre about Bertram Wooster, he had always ranked high up among the more vicious specimens-many good judges, indeed, considering that he even competed for the blue ribbon with that great scourge of modern times, my Aunt Agatha. But now, reviewing his recent conduct, I must admit that I found myself definitely softening towards him. Nobody, I reasoned, who could slosh young || Seabury like that could be altogether bad. There must be fine metal somewhere among the dross. And I actually went so far as to say to myself with something of a rush of emotion that, if ever things so shaped themselves that I could go freely about my affairs again, I would look the man up and endeavour to fraternize with him. I had even reached the stage of toying with the idea of a nice little lunch, with him on one side of the table and me on the other, sucking down some good, dry vintage wine
