"Smith."
Psmith turned his gaze politely in the housemaster's direction.
"Smith, you came to me a quarter of an hour ago and told me that it was you who had painted my dog Sampson."
"Yes, sir."
"It was absolutely untrue?"
"I am afraid so, sir."
"But, Smith ..." began the headmaster.
Psmith bent forward encouragingly.
"... This is a most extraordinary affair. Have you no explanation to offer? What induced you to do such a thing?"
Psmith sighed softly.