luck. The old boy’s coming to lunch with me tomorrow, no doubt to test me as he did you. And I never felt saner in my life.”
I thought for a moment. The idea of meeting Sir Roderick again gave me a cold shivery feeling; but when there is a chance of helping a pal we Woosters have no thought of self.
“Look here, Biffy,” I said, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll roll up for that lunch. It may easily happen that when he finds you are a pal of mine he will forbid the banns right away and no more questions asked.”
“Something in that,” said Biffy, brightening. “Awfully sporting of you, Bertie.”
“Oh, not at all,” I said. “And meanwhile I’ll consult Jeeves. Put the whole thing up to him and ask his advice. He’s never failed me yet.”
Biffy pushed off, a good deal braced, and I went into the kitchen.
“Jeeves,” I said, “I want your help once more. I’ve just been having a painful interview with Mr. Biffen.”
“Indeed, sir?”
“It’s like this,” I said, and told him the whole thing.
It was rummy, but I could feel him freezing from the start. As a rule, when I call Jeeves into conference on one of these little problems, he’s all sympathy and bright ideas; but not today.
“I fear, sir,” he said, when I had finished, “it is hardly my place to intervene in a private matter affecting—”
“Oh, come!”
“No, sir. It