"No, sir," said Psmith patiently. "We all make mistakes."
"You would have done better, Smith, not to have given me all this trouble. You have done yourself no good by it."
"It's been great fun, though, sir," argued Psmith.
"Fun!" Mr. Downing laughed grimly. "You may have reason to change your opinion of what constitutes—"
His voice failed as his eye fell on the all-black toe of the shoe. He looked up, and caught Psmith's benevolent gaze. He straightened himself and brushed a bead of perspiration from his face with the back of his hand. Unfortunately, he used the sooty hand, and the result was that he looked like a chimney sweep at work.
"Did—you—put—that—shoe—there, Smith?" he asked slowly.
"Yes, sir."
"Then what did you MEAN by putting it there?" roared Mr. Downing.
"Animal spirits, sir," said Psmith.