“Good Lord! You don’t think I’m trying to touch you?”
“That impression did flit through my mind.”
“Oh, dash it, no. No, but—well, as I was saying, I’m frightfully keen to get hold of a thousand quid.”
“So am I,” said Psmith. “Two minds with but a single thought. How do you propose to start about it? For my part, I must freely confess that I haven’t a notion. I am stumped. The cry goes round the chancelleries, ‘Psmith is baffled!’”
“I say, old thing,” said Freddie plaintively, “you couldn’t talk a bit less, could you? I’ve only got about two minutes.”
“I beg your pardon. Proceed.”
“It’s so dashed difficult to know how to begin the thing. I mean, it’s all a bit complicated till you get the hang of it. . . . Look here, you said in your advertisement that you had no objection to crime.”
Psmith considered the point.
“Within reason—and if undetected—I see no objection to two-pennorth of crime.”
“Well, look here . . . look here . . . Well, look here,” said Freddie, “will you steal my aunt’s diamond necklace?”