He had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat, but certainly no more.
Jeeves,” I said, when I had washed off the stains of travel, “tell me frankly all about it. Be as frank as Lady Bablockhythe.
And you call yourself a pal of mine!”
“Yes, I know; but there are limits.”
“Bertie,” said Bingo reproachfully, “I saved your life once.”
“Didn’t I? It must have been some other fellow then. Well, anyway, we were boys together and all that. You can’t let me down.”
“Oh, all right,” I said. “But, when you say you haven’t nerve enough for any dashed thing in the world, you misjudge yourself.
Pfui’, I said. It is an expression I don’t often use…
Good Lord, Jeeves! Is there anything you don’t know?’ ‘I couldn’t say, sir.
I just sit at my typewriter and curse a bit.
I don’t know if you know it, J.B., but you’re the sort of fellow who causes hundreds to fall under suspicion when he’s found stabbed in his library with a paper-knife of Oriental design.
Marriage is not a process for prolonging the life of love, sir. It merely mummifies its corpse.
When Nature makes a chump like dear old Bobbie, she’s proud of him, and doesn’t want her handiwork disturbed. She gives him a sort of natural armour to protect him against outside interference. And that armour is shortness of memory. Shortness of memory keeps a man a chump, when, but for it, he might cease to be one.
I say!” he said. “Are you broke?”
“Am I? If dollars were doughnuts, I wouldn’t even have the hole in the