“Well, Frederick?”
It would be paltering with the truth to say that Lord Emsworth’s greeting was a warm one. It lacked the note of true affection. A few weeks before he had had to pay a matter of five hundred pounds to settle certain racing debts for his offspring; and, while this had not actually dealt an irretrievable blow at his bank account, it had undeniably tended to diminish Freddie’s charm in his eyes.
“Hear you’ve lost your glasses, guv’nor.”
“That is so.”
“Nuisance, what?”
“Undeniably.”
“Ought to have a spare pair.”
“I have broken my spare pair.”
“Tough luck! And lost the other?”
“And, as you say, lost the other.”