Read Online The Girl in Blue by P.G. Wodehouse - Free Book Online Page A

good.’
    ‘No,
the address is all right. Bedford Row. And the firm sounds respectable. Scrope,
Ashby and Pemberton. The one who signed the letter was Willoughby Scrope.’
    ‘Well,
I’ll be… damned I suppose is the word I’m groping for.’
    ‘And
why, Mr Bones, will you be damned?’
    ‘Because
Willoughby Scrope’s my uncle.’
    ‘Really?
And you think he’s all right?’
    ‘A
splendid fellow.’
    ‘Doesn’t
chloroform girls?’
    ‘Wouldn’t
dream of it. Wouldn’t drug them, either. If he offers you a drink, have no
hesitation in downing it.’
    ‘Well,
that’s fine. You’ve eased my mind.’
    These
conversational exchanges, though set down in that way for the sake of
convenience, had actually not been continuous. Jerry had abandoned his original
idea of making the sort of lunch that would have appealed to the Roman emperor
Vitellius, but he had summoned waiters and taken nourishment. Barribault’s do
not like it if you just go there and sit. He had now finished a modest meal and
was lighting a cigarette, having seen to it that his companion was supplied
with one.
    ‘Lucky
my aunt isn’t here,’ she said, puffing.
    ‘She
doesn’t approve of smoking?’
    ‘She
thinks it gives you dyspepsia, sleeplessness, headache, weak eyes, asthma,
bronchitis, rheumatism, lumbago and sciatica and brings you out in red spots.’
    ‘I
would like to meet your aunt. Interesting woman.
    ‘She
wouldn’t like to meet you. You’re an artist.’
    ‘Ah
yes, all those Russian princesses. She strikes me as a bit on the austere side.
Why do you go back to her?’
    ‘I
must. And that reminds me. That dinner of ours.’
    ‘I’m
counting the minutes.’
    ‘Well,
I’m afraid you’ll have to count a few more, because I’m postponing it.’
    ‘Oh
hell, if I may use the expression. Why?’
    ‘I’d
forgotten it was her birthday on Friday. Shall we make it Saturday?’
    ‘I
suppose so, if we must, but I still say Oh, hell.’
    ‘Barribault’s
about eight?’
    ‘That’s
right.’
    ‘Then
it’s on. And I’m off. If I don’t see your uncle at once, I shall miss the only
good train in the afternoon. Is this Bedford Row near here?’
    ‘Not
very.
    Then
you had better put me into a taximeter cab.’
    The cab
rolled off. Jerry walked back to his flat. He had to. Barribault’s had drawn
heavily of his assets, and mere charm of manner is never accepted by taxi
drivers as a substitute for cash.
    But he
would have walked even if he had been in funds, for he wanted to study this
problem of his from every angle, and he always thought better when in motion.
    It was
a problem that needed all the thought he could give it. The recent encounter
had deepened his conviction that there was only one girl in the world he could
possibly marry, and as of even date he could see no way of avoiding marrying
another. An impasse, if ever there was one. King Solomon and Brigham Young
would have taken it in their stride, but he could see no solution.
    Reaching
home, he sat down and continued to ponder. He recalled a musical comedy in
which the comedian, reminded by the soubrette that they were engaged to be
married, had said, ‘I forgot to tell you about that, it’s off’, and he was
thinking wistfully that they managed these things better in musical comedy,
when the telephone rang and over the wire came floating the lovely voice of the
Dame of the British Empire who, he greatly feared, was about to become his
mother-in-law. It surprised him a good deal, for she was not in the habit of
chatting with him over the telephone. Indeed, she had always given him the
impression that it revolted her to talk to him at all.
    ‘Gerald?
Oh, good afternoon, Gerald. I hope I am not interrupting your work?’
    ‘No, I
never work on Wednesday.’
    ‘How I
envy you. I am resting at the moment, but as a rule the Wednesday matinée is
the curse of my life. Did you ever hear the story of the actress who was
walking past the fish shop and saw all those