It's only after a bit of breakfast that
I'm able to regard the world with that sunny cheeriness which makes a
fellow the universal favourite. I'm never much of a lad till I've
engulfed an egg or two and a beaker of coffee.
"I suppose you haven't breakfasted?"
"I have not yet breakfasted."
"Won't you have an egg or something? Or a sausage or something? Or
something?"
"No, thank you."
She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for
the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence.
"I called on you last night," she said, "but you were out."
"Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?"
"Extremely, thank you."
"See everything? Niag'ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old
Grand Canyon, and what-not?"
"I saw a great deal."
There was another slightly _frappe_ silence. Jeeves floated
silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table.
"I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?"
I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty.
"Rather not! Great pals! Hit it off splendidly."
"You were his constant companion, then?"
"Absolutely! We were always together. Saw all the sights, don't you
know. We'd take in the Museum of Art in the morning, and have a bit of
lunch at some good vegetarian place, and then toddle along to a sacred
concert in the afternoon, and home to an early dinner.
Pages:
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60