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The Metropolitan Touch

The affair has caused widespread interest. I am told that there is a certain sporting reaction in even so distant a spot as Lower Bingley.”

“Well, I don’t see what there is to do. If Bingo is such a chump⁠—”

“One is fighting a losing battle, I fear, sir, but I did venture to indicate to Mr. Little a course of action which might prove of advantage. I recommended him to busy himself with good works.”

“Good works?”

“About the village, sir. Reading to the bedridden⁠—chatting with the sick⁠—that sort of thing, sir. We can but trust that good results will ensue.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” I said doubtfully. “But, by gosh, if I was a sick man I’d hate to have a looney like young Bingo coming and gibbering at my bedside.”

“There is that aspect of the matter, sir,” said Jeeves.

I didn’t hear a word from Bingo for a couple of weeks, and I took it after a while that he had found the going too hard and had chucked in the towel. And then, one night not long before Christmas, I came back to the flat pretty latish, having been out dancing at the Embassy. I was fairly tired, having swung a practically nonstop shoe from shortly after dinner till two a.m. , and bed seemed to be indicated. Judge of my chagrin and all that sort of thing, therefore, when, tottering to my room and switching on the light, I observed the foul features of young Bingo all over the pillow. The blighter had appeared from nowhere and was in my bed, sleeping like an infant with

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