you, how are you?” I said, overcoming a slight desire to leap backwards out of the window. “Long time since we met, what?”
“Nevertheless, I remember you most distinctly, Mr. Wooster.”
“That’s fine,” I said. “Old Biffy asked me to come and join you in mangling a bit of lunch.”
He waggled the eyebrows at me.
“Are you a friend of Charles Biffen?”
“Oh, rather. Been friends for years and years.”
He drew in his breath sharply, and I could see that Biffy’s stock had dropped several points. His eye fell on the floor, which was strewn with things that had tumbled off the upset table.
“Have you had an accident?” he said.
“Nothing serious,” I explained. “Old Biffy had some sort of fit