mechanism, I felt justified in becoming technical. > “I think it is the differential gear, sir. Either that or the
I’m fond of Mr. Wooster, and I admit I came very near to melting as I looked at his face. He was staring at me in a sort of dumb despair that would have touched anybody.
“Then I’m sunk! Or”—a slight gleam of hope flickered across his drawn features—“do you think I could sneak out and leg it across country, Jeeves?”
“Too late, I fear, sir.”
I indicated with a slight gesture the approaching figure of Miss Tomlinson, who was advancing with a serene determination in his immediate rear.
“Ah, there you are, Mr. Wooster.”
He smiled a sickly smile.
“Yes—er—here I am!”
“We are all waiting