Something New by Pelham Grenville Wodehouse (rom com books to read .TXT) 📖
- Author: Pelham Grenville Wodehouse
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Funds. Damned Shame! I Take It That Things Have Loosened Up A Bit
Since The Engagement Was Announced--Eh?"
Freddie Sat Down And Chewed The Knob Of His Cane Unhappily.
"Well, As A Matter Of Fact, Dickie, Old Top," He Said, "Not So
That You Could Notice It, Don't You Know! Things Are Still Pretty
Much The Same. I Managed To Get Away From Blandings For A Night,
Because The Gov'nor Had To Come To London; But I've Got To Go
Back With Him On The Three-O'clock Train. And, As For Money, I
Can't Get A Quid Out Of Him. As A Matter Of Fact, I'm In The
Deuce Of A Hole; And That's Why I've Come To You."
Even Fat, Jovial Men Have Their Moments Of Depression. R. Jones'
Face Clouded, And Jerky Remarks About Hardness Of Times And
Losses On The Stock Exchange Began To Proceed From Him. As
Scotland Yard Had Discovered, He Lent Money On Occasion; But He
Did Not Lend It To Youths In Freddie's Unfortunate Position.
"Oh, I Don't Want To Make A Touch, You Know," Freddie Hastened To
Explain. "It Isn't That. As A Matter Of Fact, I Managed To Raise
Five Hundred Of The Best This Morning. That Ought To Be Enough."
"Depends On What You Want It For," Said R. Jones, Magically Genial
Once More.
The Thought Entered His Mind, As It Had So Often, That The World
Was Full Of Easy Marks. He Wished He Could Meet The Money-Lender
Who Had Been Rash Enough To Advance The Honorable Freddie Five
Hundred Pounds. Those Philanthropists Cross Our Path Too Seldom.
Freddie Felt In His Pocket, Produced A Cigarette Case, And From
It Extracted A Newspaper Clipping.
"Did You Read About Poor Old Percy In The Papers? The Case, You
Know?"
"Percy?"
"Lord Stockheath, You Know."
"Oh, The Stockheath Breach-Of-Promise Case? I Did More Than That.
I Was In Court All Three Days." R. Jones Emitted A Cozy Chuckle.
"Is He A Pal Of Yours? A Cousin, Eh? I Wish You Had Seen Him In
The Witness Box, With Jellicoe-Smith Cross-Examining Him! The
Funniest Thing I Ever Heard! And His Letters To The Girl! They
Read Them Out In Court; And Of All--"
"Don't, Old Man! Dickie, Old Top--Please! I Know All About It. I
Read The Reports. They Made Poor Old Percy Look Like An Absolute
Ass."
"Well, Nature Had Done That Already; But I'm Bound To Say They
Improved On Nature's Work. I Should Think Your Cousin Percy Must
Chapter 2 Pg 19A Spasm Of Pain Passed Over The Honorable Freddie's Vacant Face.
He Wriggled In His Chair.
"Dickie, Old Man, I Wish You Wouldn't Talk Like That. It Makes Me
Feel Ill."
"Why, Is He Such A Pal Of Yours As All That?"
"It's Not That. It's--The Fact Is, Dickie, Old Top, I'm In
Exactly The Same Bally Hole As Poor Old Percy Was, Myself!"
"What! You Have Been Sued For Breach Of Promise?"
"Not Absolutely That--Yet. Look Here; I'll Tell You The Whole
Thing. Do You Remember A Show At The Piccadilly About A Year Ago
Called "The Baby Doll"? There Was A Girl In The Chorus."
"Several--I Remember Noticing."
"No; I Mean One Particular Girl--A Girl Called Joan Valentine.
The Rotten Part Is That I Never Met Her."
"Pull Yourself Together, Freddie. What Exactly Is The Trouble?"
"Well--Don't You See?--I Used To Go To The Show Every Other
Night, And I Fell Frightfully In Love With This Girl--"
"Without Having Met Her?"
"Yes. You See, I Was Rather An Ass In Those Days."
"No, No!" Said R. Jones Handsomely.
"I Must Have Been Or I Shouldn't Have Been Such An Ass, Don't You
Know! Well, As I Was Saying, I Used To Write This Girl Letters,
Saying How Much I Was In Love With Her; And--And--"
"Specifically Proposing Marriage?"
"I Can't Remember. I Expect I Did. I Was Awfully In Love."
"How Was That If You Never Met Her?"
"She Wouldn't Meet Me. She Wouldn't Even Come Out To Luncheon.
She Didn't Even Answer My Letters--Just Sent Word Down By The
Johnny At The Stage Door. And Then----"
Freddie's Voice Died Away. He Thrust The Knob Of His Cane Into
His Mouth In A Sort Of Frenzy.
"What Then?" Inquired R. Jones.
Chapter 2 Pg 20
A Scarlet Blush Manifested Itself On Freddie's Young Face. His
Eyes Wandered Sidewise. After A Long Pause A Single Word Escaped
Him, Almost Inaudible:
"Poetry!"
R. Jones Trembled As Though An Electric Current Had Been Passed
Through His Plump Frame. His Little Eyes Sparkled With Merriment.
"You Wrote Her Poetry!"
"Yards Of It, Old Boy--Yards Of It!" Groaned Freddie. Panic
Filled Him With Speech. "You See The Frightful Hole I'm In? This
Girl Is Bound To Have Kept The Letters. I Don't Remember Whether
I Actually Proposed To Her Or Not; But Anyway She's Got Enough
Material To Make It Worth While To Have A Dash At An
Action--Especially After Poor Old Percy Has Just Got Soaked For
Such A Pile Of Money And Made Breach-Of-Promise Cases The
Fashion, So To Speak.
"And Now That The Announcement Of My Engagement Is Out She's
Certain To Get Busy. Probably She Has Been Waiting For Something
Of The Sort. Don't You See That All The Cards Are In Her Hands?
We Couldn't Afford To Let The Thing Come Into Court. That Poetry
Would Dish My Marriage For A Certainty. I'd Have To Emigrate Or
Something! Goodness Knows What Would Happen At Home! My Old
Gov'nor Would Murder Me! So You See What A Frightful Hole I'm In,
Don't You, Dickie, Old Man?"
"And What Do You Want Me To Do?"
"Why, To Get Hold Of This Girl And Get Back The Letters--Don't
You See? I Can't Do It Myself, Cooped Up Miles Away In The
Country. And Besides, I Shouldn't Know How To Handle A Thing
Like That. It Needs A Chappie With A Lot Of Sense And A
Persuasive Sort Of Way With Him."
"Thanks For The Compliment, Freddie; But I Should Imagine That
Something A Little More Solid Than A Persuasive Way Would Be
Required In A Case Like This. You Said Something A While Ago
About Five Hundred Pounds?"
"Here It Is, Old Man--In Notes. I Brought It On Purpose. Will You
Really Take The Thing On? Do You Think You Can Work It For Five
Hundred?"
"I Can Have A Try."
Freddie Rose, With An Expression Approximating To Happiness On
His Face. Some Men Have The Power Of Inspiring Confidence In Some
Of Their Fellows, Though They Fill Others With Distrust. Scotland
Yard Might Look Askance At R. Jones, But To Freddie He Was All
That Was Helpful And Reliable. He Shook R. Jones' Hand Several
Times In His Emotion.
Chapter 2 Pg 21
"That's Absolutely Topping Of You, Old Man!" He Said. "Then I'll
Leave The Whole Thing To You. Write Me The Moment You Have Done
Anything, Won't You? Good-By, Old Top, And Thanks Ever So Much!"
The Door Closed. R. Jones Remained Where He Sat, His Fingers
Straying Luxuriously Among The Crackling Paper. A Feeling Of
Complete Happiness Warmed R. Jones' Bosom. He Was Uncertain
Whether Or Not His Mission Would Be Successful; And To Be
Truthful He Was Not Letting That Worry Him Much. What He Was
Certain Of Was The Fact That The Heavens Had Opened Unexpectedly
And Dropped Five Hundred Pounds Into His Lap.
Chapter 3 Pg 22
The Earl Of Emsworth Stood In The Doorway Of The Senior
Conservative Club's Vast Diningroom, And Beamed With A Vague
Sweetness On The Two Hundred Or So Senior Conservatives Who, With
Much Clattering Of Knives And Forks, Were Keeping Body And Soul
Together By Means Of The Coffee-Room Luncheon. He Might Have Been
Posing For A Statue Of Amiability. His Pale Blue Eyes Shone With
A Friendly Light Through Their Protecting Glasses; The Smile Of A
Man At Peace With All Men Curved His Weak Mouth; His Bald Head,
Reflecting The Sunlight, Seemed Almost To Wear A Halo.
Nobody Appeared To Notice Him. He So Seldom Came To London These
Days That He Was Practically A Stranger In The Club; And In Any
Case Your Senior Conservative, When At Lunch, Has Little Leisure
For Observing Anything Not Immediately On The Table In Front Of
Him. To Attract Attention In The Dining-Room Of The Senior
Conservative Club Between The Hours Of One And Two-Thirty, You
Have To Be A Mutton Chop--Not An Earl.
It Is Possible That, Lacking The Initiative To Make His Way Down
The Long Aisle And Find A Table For Himself, He Might Have Stood
There Indefinitely, But For The Restless Activity Of Adams, The
Head Steward. It Was Adams' Mission In Life To Flit To And Fro,
Hauling Would-Be Lunchers To Their Destinations, As A St. Bernard
Dog Hauls Travelers Out Of Alpine Snowdrifts. He Sighted Lord
Emsworth And Secured Him With A Genteel Pounce.
"A Table, Your Lordship? This Way, Your Lordship." Adams
Remembered Him, Of Course. Adams Remembered Everybody.
Lord Emsworth Followed Him Beamingly And Presently Came To Anchor
At A Table In The Farther End Of The Room. Adams Handed Him The
Bill Of Fare And Stood Brooding Over Him
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