“What the deuce are you doing in my bed?” I said.

“Oh, hallo, Bertie! So there you are!”

“Yes, here I am. What are you doing in my bed?”

“I came up to town for the night on business.”

“Yes, but what are you doing in my bed?”

“Dash it all, Bertie,” said young Bingo querulously, “don’t keep harping on your beastly bed. There’s another made up in the spare room. I saw Jeeves make it with my own eyes. I believe he meant it for me, but I knew what a perfect host you were, so I just turned in here. I say, Bertie, old man,” said Bingo, apparently fed up with the discussion about sleeping-quarters, “I see daylight.”

“Well, it’s getting on for three in the morning.”

“I was speaking figuratively, you ass. I meant that hope has begun to dawn. About Mary Burgess, you know. Sit down and I’ll tell you all about it.”