Read Online Money in the Bank by P. G. Wodehouse - Free Book Online
Authors: P. G. Wodehouse
Ads: Link
the road, taking a resolute stand against the English convention of driving on the left, and an orthodox thinker in a lorry came round the corner. When they let Uncle George out of the hospital, the places where the stitches had been were healing up nicely, bat his memory was a blank. The doctors said it was a most interesting case. They loved it."
"It was a happy thought of yours, considering Lord Uffenham's views, to install him in the house as a butler, and not a chauffeur."
"Yes. Though I'm afraid he's not very pleased."
"I am not," said Lord Uffenham decidedly. The subject was evidently one to which he had devoted much brooding thought. "I hate cleaning silver. I dislike waiving at table. It irks me to be thrust continually into the society of a cook who insists on telling me about the state of her inside, going into a wealth of detail which is quite uncalled for. And I particularly resent having to answer to the name of Cakebread."
"Tell me," said Jeff, "did it take you long, thinking up that name?"
"Oh, no," said Anne. "It came in a flash."
"You are a very exceptional girl."
"Thank you. With quite a fairly exceptional uncle, don't you think? Well, will you help us?"
"Of course."
"It will make all the difference in the world. I mean, nobody can object to a detective nosing about. It's what he's there for. Uncle George can give you his selections for the day, and you can try them out. Sooner or later, we're bound to strike oil."
"The mere process of elimination."
"Exactly. There's just one thing. I'm afraid you won't enjoy being at Shipley. The place is run on the strictest vegetarian lines."
"This is grave news."
"Mrs. Cork is a fanatic on the subject. In the course of a recent expedition into Africa, she was greatly struck by the glowing health and simple, unspoiled outlook of a tribe called the Ugubus, who, except for an occasional missionary at Christmas, live entirely on fruit and vegetables. She took Shipley with the idea of making it a sort of nucleus or cell for propagating the Ugubu doctrines throughout England. The programme calls for high thinking, tribal dances and, above all, vegetarianism. I just want you to know what you are letting yourself in for."
"No exception is made in the case of visiting detectives?"
"Of course not. Naturally, you will have to pretend to be an ordinary member of the colony, so as to deceive Cakebread."
" I see. Still, you will be there."
"Yes, I shall be there."
"Then say no more."
"Well, that's fine. And, anyway, if you find it getting too much for you, you can always drop in on Uncle George in his pantry, and he will give you a glass of port."
Jeff cast a grateful eye at this lifesaver.
"Will he?"
"Certainly," said Lord Uffenham. "The cellar's full, and it all belongs to me. Swill till your eyes bubble."
"What a disgusting idea," said Anne. "I'm sure Mr. Adair is most abstemious."
"Mr. Adair," Jeff pointed out, "has never been tried as high as he seems likely to be at Shipley Hall."
Anne rose.
"Then the only thing we haven't settled is when you are to come."
"When would you like me to come?"
"Mrs. Cork spoke of my bringing you back in the car."
"Excellent."
"But there won't be room. She didn't know I was going to have Uncle George aboard. How long will it take you to pack?"
"Twenty minutes."
"Then there's a good train you can catch quite easily. Are you going to your club, Uncle George?"
" Yerss. I thought I might look in."
"Well, I can give you half an hour. I want to go and see Lionel. I'll call for you."
It was not for Jeff to comment on this desire of hers to visit male acquaintances, but he had a distinct feeling that for the first time a jarring note had been struck. Then, for he was a fair-minded young man, he decided that he need not make too much of the matter. A girl like this would obviously not be lacking in male acquaintances. His task must be to make it clear to her—taking his time over it, of course, and not alarming her by too
"It was a happy thought of yours, considering Lord Uffenham's views, to install him in the house as a butler, and not a chauffeur."
"Yes. Though I'm afraid he's not very pleased."
"I am not," said Lord Uffenham decidedly. The subject was evidently one to which he had devoted much brooding thought. "I hate cleaning silver. I dislike waiving at table. It irks me to be thrust continually into the society of a cook who insists on telling me about the state of her inside, going into a wealth of detail which is quite uncalled for. And I particularly resent having to answer to the name of Cakebread."
"Tell me," said Jeff, "did it take you long, thinking up that name?"
"Oh, no," said Anne. "It came in a flash."
"You are a very exceptional girl."
"Thank you. With quite a fairly exceptional uncle, don't you think? Well, will you help us?"
"Of course."
"It will make all the difference in the world. I mean, nobody can object to a detective nosing about. It's what he's there for. Uncle George can give you his selections for the day, and you can try them out. Sooner or later, we're bound to strike oil."
"The mere process of elimination."
"Exactly. There's just one thing. I'm afraid you won't enjoy being at Shipley. The place is run on the strictest vegetarian lines."
"This is grave news."
"Mrs. Cork is a fanatic on the subject. In the course of a recent expedition into Africa, she was greatly struck by the glowing health and simple, unspoiled outlook of a tribe called the Ugubus, who, except for an occasional missionary at Christmas, live entirely on fruit and vegetables. She took Shipley with the idea of making it a sort of nucleus or cell for propagating the Ugubu doctrines throughout England. The programme calls for high thinking, tribal dances and, above all, vegetarianism. I just want you to know what you are letting yourself in for."
"No exception is made in the case of visiting detectives?"
"Of course not. Naturally, you will have to pretend to be an ordinary member of the colony, so as to deceive Cakebread."
" I see. Still, you will be there."
"Yes, I shall be there."
"Then say no more."
"Well, that's fine. And, anyway, if you find it getting too much for you, you can always drop in on Uncle George in his pantry, and he will give you a glass of port."
Jeff cast a grateful eye at this lifesaver.
"Will he?"
"Certainly," said Lord Uffenham. "The cellar's full, and it all belongs to me. Swill till your eyes bubble."
"What a disgusting idea," said Anne. "I'm sure Mr. Adair is most abstemious."
"Mr. Adair," Jeff pointed out, "has never been tried as high as he seems likely to be at Shipley Hall."
Anne rose.
"Then the only thing we haven't settled is when you are to come."
"When would you like me to come?"
"Mrs. Cork spoke of my bringing you back in the car."
"Excellent."
"But there won't be room. She didn't know I was going to have Uncle George aboard. How long will it take you to pack?"
"Twenty minutes."
"Then there's a good train you can catch quite easily. Are you going to your club, Uncle George?"
" Yerss. I thought I might look in."
"Well, I can give you half an hour. I want to go and see Lionel. I'll call for you."
It was not for Jeff to comment on this desire of hers to visit male acquaintances, but he had a distinct feeling that for the first time a jarring note had been struck. Then, for he was a fair-minded young man, he decided that he need not make too much of the matter. A girl like this would obviously not be lacking in male acquaintances. His task must be to make it clear to her—taking his time over it, of course, and not alarming her by too
Similar Books
