'No, don't chuck it away, Jeeves,' he said, as I withdrew the cigarette from my mouth. 'As a matter of fact, I've come to touch you for a smoke. Got one to spare?'
'Only gaspers, I fear, sir.'
'They'll do,' responded Mr Wooster, with no little eagerness. I observed that his manner was a trifle fatigued and his eye somewhat wild. 'It's a rummy thing, Jeeves, I seem to have lost my cigarette-case. Can't find it anywhere.'
'I am sorry to hear that, sir. It is not in the car.'
'No? Must have dropped it somewhere, then.' He drew at his gasper with relish. 'Jolly creatures, small girls, Jeeves,' he remarked, after a pause.
'Extremely so, sir.'
'Of course, I can imagine some fellows finding them a bit exhausting in—er—'
'En masse, sir?'
'That's the word. A bit exhausting en masse.'
'I must confess, sir, that that is how they used to strike me. In my younger day, at the outset of my career, sir, I was at one time page-boy in a school for young ladies.'