I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, but it’s rummy how nothing in this world ever seems to be absolutely perfect. The drawback to this otherwise singularly fruity binge was, of course, the fact that Jeeves wouldn’t be on the spot to watch me in action. Still, apart from that there wasn’t a flaw. The beauty of the thing was, you see, that nothing could possibly go wrong. You know how it is, as a rule, when you want to get Chappie A on Spot B at exactly the same moment when Chappie C is on Spot D. There’s always a chance of a hitch. Take the case of a general, I mean to say, who’s planning out a big movement. He tells one regiment to capture the hill with the windmill on it at the exact moment when another regiment is taking the bridgehead or something down in the valley; and everything gets all messed up. And then, when they’re chatting the thing over in camp that night, the colonel of the first regiment says, “Oh, sorry! Did you say the hill with the windmill? I thought you said the one with the flock of sheep.” And there you are! But in this case, nothing like that could happen, because Oswald and Bingo would be on the spot right along, so that all I had to worry about was getting Honoria there in due season. And I managed that all right, first shot, by asking her if she would come for a stroll in the grounds with me, as I had something particular to say to her.
Oh poor Bertie! He's altogether too kind with his pals, and although this time there was a hint of somewhat less stainless motivation, being stuck with Honoria Glossop is really the last-but-one step to hell. And, Ruskin! I hope at least that it was The Stones of Venice and not Unto This Last.
Oh poor Bertie! He's altogether too kind with his pals, and although this time there was a hint of somewhat less stainless motivation, being stuck with Honoria Glossop is really the last-but-one step to hell. And, Ruskin! I hope at least that it was The Stones of Venice and not Unto This Last.