“Yes, sir.”
“The position is serious.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We must cluster round.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Does anything suggest itself to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What! You don’t really mean that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bingo,” I said, “the sun is still shining. Something suggests itself to Jeeves.”
“Jeeves,” said young Bingo in a quivering voice, “if you see me through this fearful crisis, ask of me what you will even unto half my kingdom.”
“The matter,” said Jeeves, “fits in very nicely, sir, with another mission which was entrusted to me this morning.”
“What do you mean?”
“ Mrs. Travers rang me up on the telephone shortly before I brought you your tea, sir, and was most urgent that I should endeavour to persuade Mr. Little’s cook to leave Mr. Little’s service and join her staff. It appears that Mr. Travers was fascinated by the man’s ability, sir, and talked far into the night of his astonishing gifts.”
Young Bingo uttered a frightful cry of agony.
“What! Is that—that buzzard trying to pinch our cook?”