"Пэлем Вудхауз. Jeeves in the offing (Предложения Дживса, engl)" - читать интересную книгу автора

cauliflower ear.'
'I know who you mean. Looks like Jack Dempsey.'
'That's right. Far more, indeed, than Jack Dempsey does. He's on the
staff of the Thursday Review, a periodical of which you may or may not
be a reader, and has to clock in at the office at daybreak. No doubt,
when I apprise him of your call, he will send you his love, for I know
he holds you in high esteem. The perfect hostess, he often describes
you as. Well, it's nice to hear your voice again, old flesh-and-blood.
How's everything down Market Snodsbury way?'
'Oh, we're jogging along. But I'm not speaking from Brinkley. I'm in
London.'
'Till when?'
'Driving back this afternoon.'
'I'll give you lunch.'
'Sorry, can't manage it. I'm putting on the nosebag with Sir
Roderick Glossop.'
This surprised me. The eminent brain specialist to whom she alluded
was a man I would not have cared to lunch with myself, our relations
having been on the stiff side since the night at Lady Wickham's place
in Hertfordshire when, acting on the advice of my hostess's daughter
Roberta, I had punctured his hot-water bottle with a darning needle in
the small hours of the morning. Quite unintentional, of course. I had
planned to puncture the h-w-b of his nephew Tuppy Glossop, with whom I
had a feud on, and unknown to me they had changed rooms, fust one of
those unfortunate misunderstandings.
'What on earth are you doing that for?'
'Why shouldn't I? He's paying.'
I saw her point - a penny saved is a penny earned and all that sort
of thing - but I continued surprised. It amazed me that Aunt Dahlia,
presumably a free agent, should have selected this very formidable
loony-doctor to chew the mid-day chop with. However, one of the first
lessons life teaches us is that aunts will be aunts, so I merely
shrugged a couple of shoulders.
'Well, it's up to you, of course, but it seems a rash act. Did you
come to London just to revel with Glossop?'
'No, I'm here to collect my new butler and take him home with me.'
'New butler? What's become of Seppings?'
'He's gone.'
I clicked the tongue. I was very fond of the major-domo in question,
having enjoyed many a port in his pantry, and this news saddened me.
'No, really?' I said. 'Too bad. I thought he looked a little frail
when I last saw him. Well, that's how it goes. All flesh is grass, I
often say.'
'To Bognor Regis, for his holiday.'
I unclicked the tongue.
'Oh, I see. That puts a different complexion on the matter. Odd how
all these pillars of the home seem to be dashing away on toots these
days. It's like what Jeeves was telling me about the great race
movements of the Middle Ages. Jeeves starts his holiday this morning.
He's off to Herne Bay for the shrimping, and I'm feeling like that bird