“The whole essence of the thing, if you understand me,” said Claude, “is that we should be at liberty to flit hither and thither.”
“Exactly,” said Eustace. “Now hither, now thither.”
“But, damn it—”
“Bertie!” said Eustace reprovingly. “Not before the boy!”
“Of course, in a way I see his point,” said Claude. “I suppose the solution of the problem would be to buy a couple of disguises.”
“My dear old chap!” said Eustace, looking at him with admiration. “The brightest idea on record. Not your own, surely?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, it was Bertie who put it into my head.”
“Me!”
“You were telling me the other day about old Bingo Little and the beard he bought when he didn’t want his uncle to recognise him.”
“If you think I’m going to have you two excrescences popping in and out of my flat in beards—”
“Something in that,” agreed Eustace. “We’ll make it whiskers, then.”
“And false noses,” said Claude.
“And, as you say, false noses. Right-o, then, Bertie, old chap, that’s a load off your mind. We don’t want to be any trouble to you while we’re paying you this little visit.”
And, when I went buzzing round to Jeeves for consolation, all he would say was something about Young Blood. No sympathy.