"
I lowered myself into a chair.
"Why?" I said.
"He assaulted a constable, sir."
"Lord Pershore assaulted a constable!"
"Yes, sir."
I digested this.
"But, Jeeves, I say! This is frightful!"
"Sir?"
"What will Lady Malvern say when she finds out?"
"I do not fancy that her ladyship will find out, sir."
"But she'll come back and want to know where he is."
"I rather fancy, sir, that his lordship's bit of time will have run out
by then."
"But supposing it hasn't?"
"In that event, sir, it may be judicious to prevaricate a little."
"How?"
"If I might make the suggestion, sir, I should inform her ladyship that
his lordship has left for a short visit to Boston."
"Why Boston?"
"Very interesting and respectable centre, sir."
"Jeeves, I believe you've hit it."
"I fancy so, sir."
"Why, this is really the best thing that could have happened. If this
hadn't turned up to prevent him, young Motty would have been in a
sanatorium by the time Lady Malvern got back."
"Exactly, sir."
The more I looked at it in that way, the sounder this prison wheeze
seemed to me. There was no doubt in the world that prison was just what
the doctor ordered for Motty. It was the only thing that could have
pulled him up. I was sorry for the poor blighter, but, after all, I
reflected, a chappie who had lived all his life with Lady Malvern, in a
small village in the interior of Shropshire, wouldn't have much to kick
at in a prison.
Pages:
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58