was to be expected from him.
“Perhaps,” she said, “as it is getting late, and he has not very much time to spare, Mr. Wooster will just give you some little word of advice which may be helpful to you in after-life, and then we will sing the school song and disperse to our evening lessons.”
She looked at Mr. Wooster.
Mr. Wooster passed a finger round the inside of his collar.
“Advice? After-life? What? Well, I don’t know—”
“Just some brief word of counsel, Mr. Wooster,” said Miss Tomlinson, firmly.
“Oh, well—Well, yes—Well—” It was painful to see Mr. Wooster’s brain endeavouring to work. “Well, I’ll tell you something that’s often done me a bit of good, and it’s a thing not many people know. My old Uncle Henry gave me the tip when I first came to London. ‘Never forget, my boy,’ he said, ‘that, if you stand outside Romano’s in the Strand, you can see the clock on the wall of the Law Courts down in Fleet Street. Most people who don’t know don’t believe it’s possible, because there are a couple of churches in the middle of the road, and you would think they would be in the way. But you can, and it’s worth knowing. You can win a lot of money betting on it with fellows who haven’t found it out.’ And, by Jove, he was perfectly right, and it’s a thing to remember. Many a quid have I—”
Miss Tomlinson gave a hard, dry cough, and Mr. Wooster