Thank You, Jeeves (Bertie Wooster & Jeeves)

Thank You, Jeeves (Bertie Wooster & Jeeves)

P. G. Wodehouse

Language: English

Pages: 240

ISBN: 0393345998

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


"P. G. Wodehouse wrote the best English comic novels of the century." ―Sebastian Faulks

Bertram Wooster’s interminable banjolele playing has driven Jeeves, his otherwise steadfast gentleman's gentleman, to give notice. The foppish aristocrat cannot survive for long without his Shakespeare-quoting and problem-solving valet, however, and after a narrowly escaped forced marriage, a cottage fire, and a great butter theft, the celebrated literary odd couple are happy to return to the way things were.

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have sloshed you on the ear.' 'Why? She naturally divined that the embrace was purely brotherly.' 'Brotherly, eh?' 'Wholly brotherly.' 'Well, it may be so,' said Chuffy doubtfully. 'Have you any sisters, Bertie?' 'No.' 'But, if you had, you would kiss them?' 'Repeatedly.' 'Well ... Oh, well ... Well, perhaps it's all right.' 'You can believe a Wooster's word, can't you?' 'I don't know so much. I remember you once, the morning after the Boat Race our second year at Oxford, telling the

himself and would be back shortly. That's what your Brinkley must have done.' I must say I drew a good deal of comfort from the idea. 'Let us hope so,' I said. 'If he is really trying to drown his sorrows, it ought to take him weeks.' 'So, you see, you've been making a fuss about nothing. I always say...' But what it was she always said, I was not privileged to learn. For at that moment she broke off with a sharp squeak. Somebody was knocking on the front door. 8 POLICE PERSECUTION We

about to go downstairs and get some, when suddenly I heard a noise. Now, a fellow in my position – virtually the hunted stag, I mean to say – has got to take considerable thought as to what his next move shall be when he hears a noise on the premises. Quite possibly, I felt, this might be J. Washburn Stoker baying on the trail, for if he had happened to drop into the state-room and observe that it was empty, the first thing he would do would be to come dashing to my cottage. So there was nothing

Sergeant Voules's little bit, and continued to leg it till I was in a sort of wood – I suppose about half a mile from the pulsing centre of affairs. The sky was all lit up, and in the distance I could hear the sound of the local fire brigade going about its duties. I sat down on a stump, and took time off to pass the situation under review. Wasn't it Robinson Crusoe or someone who, when things were working out a bit messily for him, used to draw up a sort of Credit and Debit account, in order

on his own broad shoulders.' 'How splendid!' said Pauline. 'Just what I'd have expected of him,' said old Stoker. 'Just,' said Lady Chuffnell. 'The child is the father of the man.' 'You would see him face a furious head master with a sort of dauntless look in those big blue eyes of his ...' I held up a hand. 'Enough, Chuffy,' I said. 'Sufficient. I will go through this ghastly ordeal. But one word. When I come out, do I get breakfast?' 'You get the best breakfast Chuffnell Hall can

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