The Prince and Betty

by P. G. Wodehouse

"Not if you say so, loidy."

"And your—friends? You won't let them do anything?"

"Nope."

Betty breathed freely again. Her knowledge of the East Side was small, and that there might be those there who acted independently of Mr. Jarvis, disdainful of his influence, did not occur to her. She returned to her own affairs, satisfied that danger no longer threatened.

"Mr. Jarvis, I wonder if you can help me. I want to find some work to do," she said.

"Woik?"

"I have to earn my living, you see, and I'm afraid I don't know how to begin."

Mr. Jarvis pondered. "What sort of woik?"

"Any sort," said Betty valiantly. "I don't care what it is."

Mr. Jarvis knitted his brows in thought. He was not used to being an employment agency. But Betty was Betty, and even at the cost of a headache he must think of something.