I had a kind of feeling that I was about as popular with him as a cold Welsh rabbit.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“My name? Oh, Wooster, don’t you know, and whatnot.”
“My pop’s richer than you are!”
That seemed to be all about me. The child having said his say, started in on the jam again. I turned to Jeeves.
“I say, Jeeves, can you spare a moment? I want to show you something.”
“Very good, sir.”
We toddled into the sitting room.
“Who is your little friend, Sidney the Sunbeam, Jeeves?”
“The young gentleman, sir?”
“It’s a loose way of describing him, but I know what you mean.”
“I trust I was not taking a liberty in entertaining him, sir?”
“Not a