"And give Comrade Downing, when you see him," said Psmith, "my very best love. It is men like him who make this Merrie England of ours what it is."
"I say, Psmith," said Mike suddenly, "what really made you tell Downing you'd done it?"
"The craving for—"
"Oh, chuck it. You aren't talking to the Old Man now. I believe it was simply to get me out of a jolly tight corner."
Psmith's expression was one of pain.
"My dear Comrade Jackson," said he, "you wrong me. You make me writhe. I'm surprised at you. I never thought to hear those words from Michael Jackson."
"Well, I believe you did, all the same," said Mike obstinately. "And it was jolly good of you, too."
Psmith moaned.