Read Online A Few Quick Ones by P. G. Wodehouse - Free Book Online Page A

paused for a moment, as if asking himself if "whom" would not have been more correct, repeated his statement.
    "But Mr. Mulliner is not here?"
    "Yes, Madam."
    "At three o'clock in the morning?"
    "Yes, madam. He called shortly before two, and rang the front-door bell. I informed him that you were not at home, and supposed that he had left the premises. Such, however, was not the case. Ten minutes ago he flung a bottle of champagne through my window, and when I looked out expressed a wish that I would throw him a rose from my hair. He then hit me in the left eye with an egg."
    It seemed to Augustus that he heard Hermione utter a startled cry, but it was lost in Mrs. Gudgeon's snort of amazement.
    "Mr. Mulliner did this?"
    "Yes, madam. I gather from Mr. Stoker, with whom I was conversing a short while ago, that his behaviour throughout the evening has been on similar lines. He was a member of the dinner party which Mr. Stoker attended, and Mr. Stoker tells me that he was instrumental in getting himself and friends ejected from three grillrooms and a milk bar. Mr. Stoker attributed his exuberance to youthful high spirits, and advanced the suggestion that such conduct should be excused in the young. I must confess that I am unable to take so liberal a view."
    Mrs. Gudgeon was silent for some moments. She appeared to be trying to adjust her mind to these revelations. It is never easy for a woman to realize that she has been nursing in her bosom, which is practically what she had been doing to my nephew Augustus, a viper. But presently the adjusting process seemed to be complete. She spoke grimly.
    "Next time Mr. Mulliner calls, Staniforth, I am not at home…What was that?"
    "Madam?"
    "I thought I heard a moan."
    "The breeze sighing in the trees, no doubt, madam."
    "Perhaps you are right. The breeze does sigh in trees, frequently. Did you hear it, Hermione?"
    "I thought I heard something."
    "A moan?"
    "A groan, I should have said."
    "A moan or groan," said Mrs. Gudgeon, conceding the point. "As if wrenched from the lips of some soul in agony." She broke off as a figure came out of the shadows. "Oswald!"
    Oswald Stoker waved a genial hand.
    "Hullo there. Hullo, hullo, hullo, hullo."
    "What are you doing here?"
    "Just winding up the evening. Oh, before I forget, my publisher fell into the pond and is now in the hothouse, drying out. So if you go there and see a nude publisher, pretend not to notice."
    "Oswald, you are intoxicated!"
    "It is virtually impossible not to be," said Oswald Stoker gravely, "when you have been entertained at dinner by Russell Clutterbuck of Clutterbuck and Winch, publishers of the book beautiful, and your fellow guest is Augustus Mulliner. I'm looking for him, by the way. I want to warn him that there is a herd of purple rhinoceroses down by the pond. Very dangerous things, purple rhinoceroses, especially in the mating season. Bite you in the leg as soon as look at you."
    Hermione spoke. Her voice shook.
    "Oswald!"
    "Hullo?"
    "Is this true what Staniforth has been saying about Mr. Mulliner?"
    "What did he say?"
    "That Mr. Mulliner sang under his window and threw eggs at him?"
    "Perfectly correct. I was an eyewitness."
    Mrs. Gudgeon swelled formidably.
    "I shall write Mr. Mulliner a very strong letter tomorrow. In the third person. He shall never enter this house again…There! I'm sure that was a moan. I wonder if the garden is haunted."
    She turned away, and Oswald Stoker regarded her anxiously.
    "You aren't going to the hothouse?"
    "I am going to my room. Bring me a glass of warm milk there, Staniforth."
    "Very good, madam."
    She moved off toward the house, followed by the butler and Oswald Stoker, turning to Hermione, was concerned to find her shaking with uncontrollable sobs.
    "Hullo!" he said. "Something wrong?"
    The girl gulped like a leaky radiator. "You bet your Old Etonian sock suspenders there's something wrong. I have lost the man I love."
    "Where did you see him last ?"
    "How was I to know,"