Meet Mr Mulliner

by P. G. Wodehouse

'She does not. She is the loveliest girl in the world, while you look like Lon Chaney made up for something. See for yourself.' Clarence led them to the large mirror at the head of the stairs. 'Your face—if you can call it that—is one of those beastly blobby squashy sort of faces—'

'Here!' said the Mayor.

'—whereas hers is simply divine. Your eyes are bulbous and goofy—'

'Hey!' said the Mayor.

'—while hers are sweet and soft and intelligent. Your ears—'

'Yes, yes,' said the Mayor, petulantly. 'Some other time, some other time. Then am I to take it, Mr Mulliner—'

'Call me Clarence.'

'I refuse to call you Clarence.'

'You will have to very shortly, when I am your son-in-law.'

The girl uttered a cry. The Mayor uttered a louder cry.