“Right ho, Jeeves.”
“Very good, sir.”
“And in order to bring that old love whizzing to the surface once more, all that is required is the proper treatment.”
“By ‘proper treatment,’ sir, you mean——”
“Clever handling, Jeeves. A spot of the good old snaky work. I see what must be done to jerk my Cousin Angela back to normalcy. I’ll tell you, shall I?”
“If you would be so kind, sir.”
I lit a cigarette, and eyed him keenly through the smoke. He waited respectfully for me to unleash the words of wisdom. I must say for Jeeves that—till, as he is so apt to do, he starts shoving his oar in and cavilling and obstructing—he makes a very good audience. I don’t know if he is actually agog, but he looks agog, and that’s the great thing.
“Suppose you were strolling through the illimitable jungle, Jeeves, and happened to meet a tiger cub.”
“The contingency is a remote one, sir.”
“Never mind. Let us suppose it.”