“Sir?”
“You know what I mean. Tell her I’m rather a good chap. Mention my hidden depths. These things get round. Dwell on the fact that I have a kind heart and was runner-up in the Squash Handicap at the Drones this year. A boost is never wasted, Jeeves.”
“Very good, sir. But—”
“But what?”
“Well, sir—”
“I wish you wouldn’t say ‘Well, sir,’ in that soupy tone of voice. I have had to speak of this before. The habit is one that is growing upon you. Check it. What’s on your mind?”
“I hardly like to take the liberty—”
“Carry on, Jeeves. We are always glad to hear from you, always.”
“What I was about to remark, if you will excuse me, sir, was that I would scarcely have thought Miss Wickham a suitable—”
“Jeeves,” I said coldly, “if you have anything to say against that lady, it had better not be said in my presence.”
“Very good, sir.”
“Or anywhere else, for that matter. What is your kick against Miss Wickham?”
“Oh, really, sir!”
“Jeeves, I insist. This is a time for plain speaking. You have beefed about Miss Wickham. I wish to know why.”