bit.”
“Very good, sir.”
After imbibing, I felt a shade better.
“Jeeves,” I said.
“Sir?”
“I rather fancy I’m in the soup, Jeeves.”
“Indeed, sir?”
I eyed the man narrowly.
Dashed aloof his manner was.
Still brooding over the cummerbund.
“Yes. Right up to the hocks,” I said, suppressing the pride of the Woosters and trying to induce him to be a bit matier.