“I felt that I should tell you, sir, that somebody has been putting black polish on our brown walking shoes.”

“What! Who? Why?”

“I could not say, sir.”

“Can anything be done with them?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Damn!”

“Very good, sir.”

I’ve often wondered since then how these murderer fellows manage to keep in shape while they’re contemplating their next effort. I had a much simpler sort of job on hand, and the thought of it rattled me to such an extent in the night watches that I was a perfect wreck next day. Dark circles under the eyes⁠—I give you my word! I had to call on Jeeves to rally round with one of those lifesavers of his.