“Yes, sir. I have ascertained that Mrs. Gregson’s motive in inviting you to this house was that she might present you to Mr. Filmer with a view to your becoming his private secretary.”
“What!”
“Yes, sir. Purvis, the butler, chanced to overhear Mrs. Gregson in conversation with Mr. Filmer on the matter.”
“Secretary to that superfatted bore! Jeeves, I could never have survived it.”
“No, sir. I fancy you would not have found it agreeable. Mr. Filmer is scarcely a congenial companion for you. Yet, had Mrs. Gregson secured the position for you, you might have found it embarrassing to decline to accept it.”
“Embarrassing is right!”
“Yes, sir.”
“But I say, Jeeves, there’s just one point which you seem to have overlooked. Where exactly do I get off?”
“Sir?”
“I mean to say, Aunt Agatha sent word by Purvis just now that she wanted to see me. Probably she’s polishing up her hatchet at this very moment.”
“It might be the most judicious plan not to meet her, sir.”
“But how can I help it?”
“There is a good, stout water pipe running down the wall immediately outside this window, sir. And I could have the two-seater waiting outside the park gates in twenty minutes.”