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Sir Roderick Comes to Lunch

out. So if you could manage a tenner⁠—Oh, thanks, that’s fearfully good of you. It would have been too bad to leave them there, what? I mean, they’re both such frightfully good chaps, you know. Everybody likes them up at the ’Varsity. They’re fearfully popular.”

“I bet they are!” I said.

When Jeeves came back, I was waiting for him on the mat. I wanted speech with the blighter.

“Well?” I said.

“Sir Roderick asked me a number of questions, sir, respecting your habits and mode of life, to which I replied guardedly.”

“I don’t care about that. What I want to know is why you didn’t explain the whole thing to him right at the start? A word from you would have put everything clear.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now he’s gone off thinking me a looney.”

“I should not be surprised, from his conversation with me, sir, if some such idea had not entered his head.”

I was just starting in to speak, when the telephone bell rang. Jeeves answered it.

“No, madam, Mr. Wooster is not in. No, madam, I do not know when he will return, No, madam, he left no message. Yes, madam, I will inform him.” He put back the receiver. “ Mrs. Gregson, sir.”

Aunt Agatha! I had been expecting it. Ever since the luncheon-party had blown out a fuse, her shadow had been hanging over me, so to speak.

“Does she know? Already?”

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