“Perfectly correct, sir.”
“And yet now she has absolutely insisted on my scratching all previous engagements and buzzing down to Woollam Chersey. She must have some sinister reason of which we know nothing. Can you blame me, Jeeves, if the heart is heavy?”
“No, sir. Excuse me, sir, I fancy I heard the front-door bell.”
He shimmered out, and I took another listless stab at the e. and bacon.
“A telegram, sir,” said Jeeves, reentering the presence.
“Open it, Jeeves, and read contents. Who is it from?”
“It is unsigned, sir.”
“You mean there’s no name at the end of it?”
“That is precisely what I was endeavouring to convey, sir.”
“Let’s have a look.”
I scanned the thing. It was a rummy communication. Rummy. No other word.
As follows:—
Remember when you come here absolutely vital meet perfect strangers.
We Woosters are not very strong in the head, particularly at breakfast-time; and I was conscious of a dull ache between the eyebrows.
“What does it mean, Jeeves?”
“I could not say, sir.”