Jimmy stared at him.

“This is damned odd, Stevens. Damned odd. Look here, what time did I come home last night?”

“Just upon five o’clock, sir.”

“And was I⁠—er⁠—how was I?”

“Just a little cheerful, sir⁠—nothing more. Inclined to sing ‘ Rule Britannia .’ ”

“What an extraordinary thing,” said Jimmy. “ ‘ Rule Britannia ,’ eh? I cannot imagine myself in a sober state ever singing ‘ Rule Britannia .’ Some latent patriotism must have emerged under the stimulus of⁠—er⁠—just a couple too many. I was celebrating at the Mustard and Cress, I remember. Not nearly such an innocent spot as it sounds, Stevens.” He paused. “I was wondering⁠—”