“Well, I don’t see what there is to do. If Bingo is such a chump⁠—”

“One is fighting a losing battle, I fear, sir, but I did venture to indicate to Mr. Little a course of action which might prove of advantage. I recommended him to busy himself with good works.”

“Good works?”

“About the village, sir. Reading to the bedridden⁠—chatting with the sick⁠—that sort of thing, sir. We can but trust that good results will ensue.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” I said doubtfully. “But, by gosh, if I was a sick man I’d hate to have a looney like young Bingo coming and gibbering at my bedside.”

“There is that aspect of the matter, sir,” said Jeeves.