have seen of him, that this chappie is not a blighter or an excrescence?”
“No, sir. I should not care to venture such liberal odds.”
“I knew it. Well, the only thing that remains to be discovered is what kind of a blighter he is.”
“Time will tell, sir. The gentleman brought a letter for you, sir.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” I said, and grasped the communication. And then I recognised the handwriting. “I say, Jeeves, this is from my Aunt Agatha!”
“Indeed, sir?”
“Don’t dismiss it in that light way. Don’t you see what this means? She says she wants me to look after this excrescence while he’s in New York. By Jove, Jeeves, if I only fawn on him a bit, so