"Пэлем Грэнвил Вудхауз. Much obliged, Jeeves (Премного обязан, Дживс; англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

a wonderful girl and practically perfect in every respect, but she
has one characteristic which makes it awkward for those who love
her and are engaged to her. Don't think I'm criticizing her.'
'No, no.'
'I'm just mentioning it.'
'Exactly.'
'Well, she has no use for a loser. To keep her esteem you have
to be a winner. She's like one of those princesses in the fairy
tales who set fellows some task to perform, as it might be scaling
a mountain of glass or bringing her a hair from the beard of the
Great Cham of Tartary, and gave them the brush-off when they
couldn't make the grade.'
I recalled the princesses of whom he spoke, and I had always
thought them rather fatheads. I mean to say, what sort of
foundation for a happy marriage is the bridegroom's ability to
scale mountains of glass? A fellow probably wouldn't be called on
to do it more than about once every ten years, if that.
'Gorringe,' said Ginger, continuing, 'was a loser, and that
dished him. And long ago, someone told me, she was engaged to a
gentleman jockey and she chucked him because he took a spill at the
canal turn in the Grand National. She's a perfectionist. I admire
her for it, of course.'
'Of course.'
'A girl like her is entitled to have high standards.'
'Quite.'
'But, as I say, it makes it awkward for me. She has set her
heart on my winning this Market Snodsbury election, heaven knows
why, for I never thought she had any interest in politics, and if I
lose it, I shall lose her, too. So ...'
'Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of the
party?'
'Exactly. You are going to canvass for me. Well, canvass like a
ton of bricks, and see that Jeeves does the same. I've simply got
to win.'
'You can rely on us.'
'Thank you, Bertie, I knew I could. And now let's go in and
have a bite of lunch.'


4

Having restored the tissues with the excellent nourishment
which Barribault's hotel always provides and arranged that Ginger
was to pick me up in his car later in the afternoon, my own sports
model being at the vet's with some nervous ailment, we parted, he
to go in search of Magnolia Glendennon, I to walk back to the
Wooster GHQ.

It was, as you may suppose, in thoughtful mood that I made my
way through London's thoroughfares. I was reading a novel of