You can get anything you like for eggs in America.
Chappies keep them on ice for years and years, and don't sell them till
they fetch about a dollar a whirl. You don't think I'm going to chuck a
future like this for anything under five hundred o' goblins a year--what?"
A look of anguish passed over old Chiswick's face, then he seemed to be
resigned to it. "Very well, my boy," he said.
"What-o!" said Bicky. "All right, then."
"Jeeves," I said. Bicky had taken the old boy off to dinner to
celebrate, and we were alone. "Jeeves, this has been one of your best
efforts."
"Thank you, sir."
"It beats me how you do it."
"Yes, sir."
"The only trouble is you haven't got much out of it--what!"
"I fancy Mr. Bickersteth intends--I judge from his remarks--to signify
his appreciation of anything I have been fortunate enough to do to
assist him, at some later date when he is in a more favourable position
to do so."
"It isn't enough, Jeeves!"
"Sir?"
It was a wrench, but I felt it was the only possible thing to be done.
"Bring my shaving things."
A gleam of hope shone in the chappie's eye, mixed with doubt.
"You mean, sir?"
"And shave off my moustache."
There was a moment's silence. I could see the fellow was deeply moved.
"Thank you very much indeed, sir," he said, in a low voice, and popped
off.
ABSENT TREATMENT
I want to tell you all about dear old Bobbie Cardew.
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