The Jeeves Omnibus (326 page)

Read The Jeeves Omnibus Online

Authors: P. G. Wodehouse

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humour, #Literary, #Fiction, #Classic, #General, #Classics

Feeling a bit more cheerful, I reached for my cigarette case and was just going to open it, when like an ass I dropped it and it fell into the road. And as I stepped from the pavement to retrieve it there was a sudden tooting in my rear, and whirling on my axis I perceived that in about another two ticks I was going to be rammed amidships by a taxi.

The trouble about whirling on your axis, in case you didn’t know, is that you’re liable, if not an adagio dancer, to trip over your feet, and this was what I proceeded to do. My left shoe got all mixed up with my right ankle, I tottered, swayed, and after a brief pause came down like some noble tree beneath the woodman’s axe, and I was sitting there lost in a maze of numbing thoughts, when an unseen hand attached itself to my arm and jerked me back to safety. The taxi went on and turned the corner.

Well, of course the first thing the man of sensibility does on these occasions is to thank his brave preserver. I turned to do this, and blow me tight if the b.p. wasn’t Jeeves. Came as a complete surprise. I couldn’t think what he was doing there, and for an instant the idea occurred to me that this might be his astral body.

‘Jeeves!’ I ejaculated. I’m pretty sure that’s the word. Anyway, I’ll risk it.

‘Good afternoon, sir. I trust you are not too discommoded. That was a somewhat narrow squeak.’

‘It was indeed. I don’t say my whole life passed before me, but a considerable chunk of it did. But for you—’

‘Not at all, sir.’

‘Yes, you and you only saved me from appearing in tomorrow’s obituary column.’

‘A pleasure, sir.’

‘It’s amazing how you always turn up at the crucial moment, like the United States Marines. I remember how you did when A. B. Filmer and I were having our altercation with that swan, and there were other occasions too numerous to mention. Well, you will certainly get a rave notice in my prayers next time I make them. But how do you happen to be in these parts? Where are we, by the way?’

‘This is Curzon Street, sir.’

‘Of course. I’d have known that if I hadn’t been musing.’

‘You were musing, sir?’

‘Deeply. I’ll tell you about it later. This is where your club is, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, sir, just round the corner. In your absence and having completed the packing, I decided to lunch there.’

‘Thank heaven you did. If you hadn’t, I’d have been … what’s that gag of yours? Something about wheels.’

‘Less than the dust beneath thy chariot wheels, sir.

‘Or, rather, the cabby’s chariot wheels. Why are you looking at me with such a searching eye, Jeeves?’

‘I was thinking that your misadventure had left you somewhat dishevelled, sir. If I might suggest it, I think we should repair to the Junior Ganymede now.’

‘I see what you mean. You would give me a wash and brush-up?’

‘Just so, sir.’

‘And perhaps a whisky and soda?’

‘Certainly, sir.’

‘I need one sorely. Ginger’s practically on the waggon, so there were no cocktails before lunch. And do you know why he’s practically on the waggon? Because the girl he’s engaged to has made him take that foolish step. And do you know who the girl he’s engaged to is? My cousin Florence Craye.’

‘Indeed, sir?’

Well, I hadn’t expected him to roll his eyes and leap about,
because
he never does no matter how sensational the news item, but I could see by the way one of his eyebrows twitched and rose perhaps an eighth of an inch that I had interested him. And there was what is called a wealth of meaning in that ‘Indeed, sir?’ He was conveying his opinion that this was a bit of luck for Bertram, because a girl you have once been engaged to is always a lurking menace till she gets engaged to someone else and so cannot decide at any moment to play a return date. I got the message and thoroughly agreed with him, though naturally I didn’t say so.

Jeeves, you see, is always getting me out of entanglements with the opposite sex, and he knows all about the various females who from time to time have come within an ace of hauling me to the altar rails, but of course we don’t discuss them. To do so, we feel, would come under the head of bandying a woman’s name, and the Woosters do not bandy women’s names. Nor do the Jeeveses. I can’t speak for his Uncle Charlie Silversmith, but I should imagine that he, too, has his code of ethics in this respect. These things generally run in families.

So I merely filled him in about her making Ginger stand for Parliament and the canvassing we were going to undertake, urging him to do his utmost to make the electors think along the right lines, and he said ‘Yes, sir’ and ‘Very good, sir’ and ‘I quite understand, sir’, and we proceeded to the Junior Ganymede.

An extremely cosy club it proved to be. I didn’t wonder that he liked to spend so much of his leisure there. It lacked the sprightliness of the Drones. I shouldn’t think there was much bread and sugar thrown about at lunch time, and you would hardly expect that there would be when you reflected that the membership consisted of elderly butlers and gentlemen’s gentlemen of fairly ripe years, but as regards comfort it couldn’t be faulted. The purler I had taken had left me rather tender in the fleshy parts, and it was a relief after I had been washed and brushed up and was on the spruce side once more to sink into a well-stuffed chair in the smoking-room.

Sipping my whisky and s, I brought the conversation round again to Ginger and his election, which was naturally the front page stuff of the day.

‘Do you think he has a chance, Jeeves?’

He weighed the question for a moment, as if dubious as to where he would place his money.

‘It is difficult to say, sir. Market Snodsbury, like so many
English
country towns, might be described as straitlaced. It sets a high value on respectability.’

‘Well, Ginger’s respectable enough.’

‘True, sir, but, as you are aware, he has had a Past.’

‘Not much of one.’

‘Sufficient, however, to prejudice the voters, should they learn of it.’

‘Which they can’t possibly do. I suppose he’s in the club book—’

‘Eleven pages, sir.’

‘—But you assure me that the contents of the club book will never be revealed.’

‘Never, sir. Mr Winship has nothing to fear from that quarter.’

His words made me breathe more freely.

‘Jeeves,’ I said, ‘your words make me breathe more freely. As you know, I am always a bit uneasy about the club book. Kept under lock and key, is it?’

‘Not actually under lock and key, sir, but it is safely bestowed in the secretary’s office.’

‘Then there’s nothing to worry about.’

‘I would not say that, sir. Mr Winship must have had companions in his escapades, and they might inadvertently make some reference to them which would get into gossip columns in the Press and thence into the Market Snodsbury journals. I believe there are two of these, one rigidly opposed to the Conservative interest which Mr Winship is representing. It is always a possibility, and the results would be disastrous. I have no means at the moment of knowing the identity of Mr Winship’s opponent, but he is sure to be a model of respectability whose past can bear the strictest investigation.’

‘You’re pretty gloomy, Jeeves. Why aren’t you gathering rosebuds? The poet Herrick would shake his head.’

‘I am sorry, sir. I did not know that you were taking Mr Winship’s fortunes so much to heart, or I would have been more guarded in my speech. Is victory in the election of such importance to him?’

‘It’s vital. Florence will hand him his hat if he doesn’t win.’

‘Surely not, sir?’

‘That’s what he says, and I think he’s right. His observations on the subject were most convincing. He says she’s a perfectionist and has no use for a loser. It is well established that she
handed
Percy Gorringe the pink slip because the play he made of her novel only ran three nights.’

‘Indeed, sir?’

‘Well documented fact.’

‘Then let us hope that what I fear will not happen, sir.’

We were sitting there hoping that what he feared would not happen, when a shadow fell on my whisky and s and I saw that we had been joined by another member of the Junior Ganymede, a smallish, plumpish, Gawd-help-us-ish member wearing clothes more suitable for the country than the town and a tie that suggested that he belonged to the Brigade of Guards, though I doubted if this was the case. As to his manner, I couldn’t get a better word for it at the moment than ‘familiar’, but I looked it up later in Jeeves’s
Dictionary of Synonyms
and found that it had been unduly intimate, too free, forward, lacking in proper reserve, deficient in due respect, impudent, bold and intrusive. Well, when I tell you that the first thing he did was to prod Jeeves in the lower ribs with an uncouth forefinger, you will get the idea.

‘Hullo, Reggie,’ he said, and I froze in my chair, stunned by the revelation that Jeeves’s first name was Reginald. It had never occurred to me before that he had a first name. I couldn’t help thinking what embarrassment would have been caused if it had been Bertie.

‘Good afternoon,’ said Jeeves, and I could see that the chap was not one of his inner circle of friends. His voice was cold, and anyone less lacking in proper reserve and deficient in due respect would have spotted this and recoiled.

The Gawd-help-us fellow appeared to notice nothing amiss. His manner continued to be that of one who has met a pal of long standing.

‘How’s yourself, Reggie?’

‘I am in tolerably good health, thank you.’

‘Lost weight, haven’t you? You ought to live in the country like me and get good country butter.’ He turned to me. ‘And you ought to be more careful, cocky, dancing about in the middle of the street like that. I was in that cab and I thought you were a goner. You’re Wooster, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ I said, amazed. I hadn’t known I was such a public figure.

‘Thought so. I don’t often forget a face. Well, I can’t stay chatting with you. I’ve got to see the secretary about something. Nice to have seen you, Reggie.’

‘Goodbye.’

‘Nice to have seen you, Wooster, old man.’

I thanked him, and he withdrew. I turned to Jeeves, that wild surmise I was speaking about earlier functioning on all twelve cylinders.

‘Who was that?’

He did not reply immediately, plainly too ruffled for speech. He had to take a sip of his liqueur brandy before he was master of himself. His manner, when he did speak, was that of one who would have preferred to let the whole thing drop.

‘The person you mentioned at the breakfast table, sir. Bingley,’ he said, pronouncing the name as if it soiled his lips.

I was astounded. You could have knocked me down with a toothpick.

‘Bingley? I’d never have recognized him. He’s changed completely. He was quite thin when I knew him, and very gloomy, you might say sinister. Always seemed to be brooding silently on the coming revolution, when he would be at liberty to chase me down Park Lane with a dripping knife.’

The brandy seemed to have restored Jeeves. He spoke now with his customary calm.

‘I believe his political views were very far to the left at the time when he was in your employment. They changed when he became a man of property.’

‘A man of property, is he?’

‘An uncle of his in the grocery business died and left him a house and a comfortable sum of money.’

‘I suppose it often happens that the views of fellows like Bingley change when they come into money.’

‘Very frequently. They regard the coming revolution from a different standpoint.’

‘I see what you mean. They don’t want to be chased down Park Lane with dripping knives themselves. Is he still a gentleman’s gentleman?’

‘He has retired. He lives a life of leisure in Market Snodsbury.’

‘Market Snodsbury? That’s funny.’

‘Sir?’

‘Odd, I mean, that he should live in Market Snodsbury.’

‘Many people do, sir.’

‘But when that’s just where we’re going. Sort of a coincidence. His uncle’s house is there, I suppose.’

‘One presumes so.’

‘We may be seeing something of him.’

‘I hope not, sir. I disapprove of Bingley. He is dishonest. Not a man to be trusted.’

‘What makes you think so?’

‘It is merely a feeling.’

Well, it was no skin off my nose. A busy man like myself hasn’t time to go about trusting Bingley. All I demanded of Bingley was that if our paths should cross he would remain sober and keep away from carving knives. Live and let live is the Wooster motto. I finished my whisky and soda and rose.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘there’s one thing. Holding the strong Conservative views he does, it ought to be a snip to get him to vote for Ginger. And now we’d better be getting along. Ginger is driving us down in his car, and I don’t know when he’ll be coming to fetch us. Thanks for your princely hospitality, Jeeves. You have brought new life to the exhausted frame.’

‘Not at all, sir.’

5

GINGER TURNED UP
in due course, and on going out to the car I saw that he had managed to get hold of Magnolia all right, for there was a girl sitting in the back and when he introduced us his ‘Mr Wooster, Miss Glendennon’ told the story.

Nice girl she seemed to me and quite nice-looking. I wouldn’t say hers was the face that launched a thousand ships, to quote one of Jeeves’s gags, and this was probably all to the good, for Florence, I imagine, would have had a word to say if Ginger had returned from his travels with something in tow calculated to bring a whistle to the lips of all beholders. A man in his position has to exercise considerable care in his choice of secretaries, ruling out anything that might have done well in the latest Miss America contest. But you could certainly describe her appearance as pleasant. She gave me the impression of being one of those quiet, sympathetic girls whom you could tell your troubles to in the certain confidence of having your hand held and your head patted. The sort of girl you could go to and say ‘I say, I’ve just committed a murder and it’s worrying me rather,’ and she would reply, ‘There, there, try not to think about it, it’s the sort of thing that might happen to anybody.’ The little mother, in short, with the added attraction of being tops at shorthand and typing. I could have wished Ginger’s affairs in no better hands.

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