“Surely not?”
“Your incredulity, my dear Wooster, is extremely flattering—far more flattering, of course, than I deserve. Nevertheless, the facts are as I have stated. You are sure that I would not be well advised to make certain excisions and eliminations? You do not think it would be a good thing to cut, to prune? I might, for example, delete the rather exhaustive excursus into the family life of the early Assyrians?”
“Don’t touch a word of it, or you’ll spoil the whole thing,” I said earnestly.
“I am delighted to hear you say so, and I shall preach the sermon without fail next Sunday morning.”
* * * * *
What I have always said, and what I always shall say, is, that this ante-post betting is a mistake, an error, and a mug’s game. You never can tell what’s going to happen. If fellows would only stick to the good old S.P. there would be fewer young men go wrong. I’d hardly finished my breakfast on the Saturday morning, when Jeeves came to my bedside to say that Eustace wanted me on the telephone.
“Good Lord, Jeeves, what’s the matter, do you think?”
I’m bound to say I was beginning to get a bit jumpy by this time.
“Mr. Eustace did not confide in me, sir.”
“Has he got the wind up?”