“No, thank you.”
She spoke as if she belonged to an anti-sausage society or a league for the suppression of eggs. There was a bit of a silence.
“I called on you last night,” she said, “but you were out.”
“Awfully sorry! Had a pleasant trip?”
“Extremely, thank you.”
“See everything? Niag’ra Falls, Yellowstone Park, and the jolly old Grand Canyon, and what-not?”
“I saw a great deal.”
There was another slightly frappé silence. Jeeves floated silently into the dining-room and began to lay the breakfast-table.
“I hope Wilmot was not in your way, Mr. Wooster?”
I had been wondering when she was going to mention Motty.