“I will tell you. One night after dinner at the Drones he bet me I wouldn’t swing myself across the swimming-bath by the ropes and rings. I took him on, and was buzzing along in great style until I came to the last ring. And then I found that this fiend in human shape had looped it back against the rail, thus leaving me hanging in the void with no means of getting ashore to my home and loved ones. There was nothing for it but to drop into the water. He told me that he had often caught fellows that way; and what I maintain, Jeeves, is that, if I can’t get back at him somehow at Skeldings—with all the vast resources which a country house affords at my disposal—I am not the man I was.”
“I see, sir.”
There was still something in his manner which told me that even now he lacked complete sympathy and understanding, so, delicate though the subject was, I decided to put all my cards on the table.
“And now, Jeeves, we come to the most important reason why I had to spend Christmas at Skeldings. Jeeves,” I said, diving into the old cup once more for a moment and bringing myself out wreathed in blushes, “the fact of the matter is, I’m in love.”
“Indeed, sir?”
“You’ve seen Miss Roberta Wickham?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well, then.”
There was a pause, while I let it sink in.
“During your stay here, Jeeves,” I said, “you will, no doubt, be thrown a good deal together with Miss Wickham’s maid. On such occasions, pitch it strong.”