some extent, and a good deal of light had dawned upon me.
“Jeeves!”
“Sir?”
“Did you put that pie-faced infant up to ballyragging Mr. Bassington-Bassington?”
“Sir?”
“Oh, you know what I mean. Did you tell him to get Mr. Bassington-Bassington sacked from the Ask Dad company?”
“I would not take such a liberty, sir.” He started to put out my clothes. “It is possible that young Master Blumenfield may have gathered from casual remarks of mine that I did not consider the stage altogether a suitable sphere for Mr. Bassington-Bassington.”
“I say, Jeeves, you know, you’re a bit of a marvel.”
“I endeavour to give satisfaction, sir.”
“And I’m frightfully obliged, if you know what I mean. Aunt Agatha would have had sixteen or seventeen