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

at the moment than 'familiar', but I looked it up later in Jeeves's
Dictionary of Synonyms and found that it had been unduly intimate,
too free, forward, lacking in proper reserve, deficient in due
respect, impudent, bold and intrusive. Well, when I tell you that
the first thing he did was to prod Jeeves in the lower ribs with an
uncouth forefinger, you will get the idea.
'Hullo, Reggie,' he said, and I froze in my chair, stunned by
the revelation that Jeeves's first name was Reginald. It had never
occurred to me before that he had a first name. I couldn't help
thinking what embarrassment would have been caused if it had been
Bertie.
'Good afternoon,' said Jeeves, and I could see that the chap
was not one of his inner circle of friends. His voice was cold, and
anyone less lacking in proper reserve and deficient in due respect
would have spotted this and recoiled.
The Gawd-help-us fellow appeared to notice nothing amiss. His
manner continued to be that of one who has met a pal of long
standing.
'How's yourself, Reggie?'
'I am in tolerably good health, thank you.'
'Lost weight, haven't you? You ought to live in the country
like me and get good country butter.' He turned to me. 'And you
ought to be more careful, cocky, dancing about in the middle of the
street like that. I was in that cab and I thought you were a goner.
You're Wooster, aren't you?'
'Yes,' I said, amazed. I hadn't known I was such a public
figure.
'Thought so. I don't often forget a face. Well, I can't stay
chatting with you. I've got to see the secretary about something.
Nice to have seen you, Reggie.'
'Goodbye.'
'Nice to have seen you, Wooster, old man.'
I thanked him, and he withdrew. I turned to Jeeves, that wild
surmise I was speaking about earlier functioning on all twelve
cylinders.
'Who was that?'
He did not reply immediately, plainly too ruffled for speech.
He had to take a sip of his liqueur brandy before he was master of
himself. His manner, when he did speak, was that of one who would
have preferred to let the whole thing drop.
'The person you mentioned at the breakfast table, sir.
Bingley,' he said, pronouncing the name as if it soiled his lips.
I was astounded. You could have knocked me down with a
toothpick.
'Bingley? I'd never have recognized him. He's changed
completely. He was quite thin when I knew him, and very gloomy, you
might say sinister. Always seemed to be brooding silently on the
coming revolution, when he would be at liberty to chase me down
Park Lane with a dripping knife.'
The brandy seemed to have restored Jeeves. He spoke now with