The Intrusion of Jimmy by P. G. Wodehouse (if you liked this book TXT) 📖

For a moment, Spike looked wistful. Then, his countenance resumed its woodenness. "Dere ain't no use for me dis side, boss," he said. "New York's de spot. Youse don't want none of me, now you're married. How's Miss Molly, boss?"

"Splendid, Spike, thanks. We're going over to France by to-night's boat."

"It's been a queer business," Jimmy continued, after a pause, "a deuced-queer business! Still, I've come very well out of it, at any rate. It seems to me that you're the only one of us who doesn't end happily, Spike. I'm married. McEachern's butted into society so deep that it would take an excavating party with dynamite to get him out of it. Molly—well, Molly's made a bad bargain, but I hope she won't regret it. We're all going some, except you. You're going out on the old trail again—which begins in Third Avenue, and ends in Sing Sing. Why tear yourself away, Spike?"

Spike concentrated his gaze on a weedy young emigrant in a blue jersey, who was having his eye examined by the overworked doctor and seemed to be resenting it.

"Dere's nuttin' doin' dis side, boss," he said, at length. "I want to git busy."

"Ulysses Mullins!" said Jimmy, looking at him curiously. "I know the feeling. There's only one cure. I sketched it out for you once, but I guess you'll never take it. You don't think a lot of women, do you? You're the rugged bachelor."

"Goils—!" began Spike comprehensively, and abandoned the topic without dilating on it further.

Jimmy lighted his pipe, and threw the match overboard.

The sun came out from behind a cloud, and the water sparkled.

"Dose were great jools, boss," said Spike, thoughtfully.

"I believe you're still brooding over them, Spike."

"We could have got away wit' dem, if youse would have stood fer it. Dead easy."

"You are brooding over them. Spike, I'll tell you something which will console you a little, before you start out on your wanderings. It's in confidence, so keep it dark. That necklace was paste."

"What's dat?"

"Nothing but paste. I got next directly you handed them to me. They weren't worth a hundred dollars."

A light of understanding came into Spike's eyes. His face beamed with the smile of one to whom dark matters are made clear.

"So, dat's why you wouldn't stan' fer gittin' away wit' dem!" he exclaimed.