can’t be disturbed.”
An hour later I rang the bell.
“Jeeves,” I said with hauteur.
“Yes, sir?”
“Kindly ring Mr. Biffen up on the phone and say that Mr. Wooster presents his compliments and that he has got it.”
I was feeling more than a little pleased with myself next morning as I strolled round to Biffy’s. As a rule the bright ideas you get overnight have a trick of not seeming quite so frightfully fruity when you examine them by the light of day; but this one looked as good at breakfast as it had done before dinner. I examined it narrowly from every angle, and I didn’t see how it could fail.
A few days before, my Aunt Emily’s son Harold had