On the following day Mr Bickersdyke met Psmith in the club three times, and on the day after that seven. Each time the latter's smile was friendly, but patronizing. Mr Bickersdyke began to grow restless.
On the fourth day Psmith made his first remark. The manager was reading the evening paper in a corner, when Psmith sinking gracefully into a chair beside him, caused him to look up.
'The rain keeps off,' said Psmith.
Mr Bickersdyke looked as if he wished his employee would imitate the rain, but he made no reply.
Psmith called a waiter.
'Would you mind bringing me a small cup of coffee?' he said. 'And for you,' he added to Mr Bickersdyke.
'Nothing,' growled the manager.
'And nothing for Mr Bickersdyke.'
The waiter retired. Mr Bickersdyke became absorbed in his paper.
'I see from my morning paper,' said Psmith, affably, 'that you are to address a meeting at the Kenningford Town Hall next week. I shall come and hear you. Our politics differ in some respects, I fear—I incline to the Socialist view—but nevertheless I shall listen to your remarks with great interest, great interest.'