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Stiff Upper Lip Jeeves

Stiff Upper Lip Jeeves

Titel: Stiff Upper Lip Jeeves
Autoren: P.G. Wodehouse
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can’t believe it.’
    Til go and fetch Sir Watkyn,’ said Spode. ‘Perhaps you’ll believe him.’
    For several minutes after he had clumped out, Madeline must have stood in a reverie, for I didn’t hear a sound out of her. Then the door opened, and the next thing that came across was a cough which I had no difficulty in recognizing.

    23
    It was that soft cough of Jeeves’s which always reminds me of a very old sheep clearing its throat on a distant mountain top. He coughed it at me, if you remember, on the occasion when I first swam into his ken wearing the Alpine hat. It generally signifies disapproval, but I’ve known it to occur also when he’s about to touch on a topic of a delicate nature. And when he spoke, I knew that that was what he was going to do now, for there was a sort of hushed note in his voice.
    ‘I wonder if I might have a moment of your time, miss?’
    ‘Of course, Jeeves.’
    ‘It is with reference to Mr. Wooster.’
    ‘Oh, yes?’
    ‘I must begin by saying that I chanced to be passing the door when Lord Sidcup was speaking to you and inadvertently overheard his lordship’s observations on the subject of Mr. Wooster. His lordship has a carrying voice. And I find myself in a somewhat equivocal position, torn between loyalty to my employer and a natural desire to do my duty as a citizen.’
    ‘I don’t understand you, Jeeves,’ said Madeline, which made two of us.
    He coughed again.
    ‘I am anxious not to take a liberty, miss, but if I may speak frankly -‘
    ‘Please do.’
    ‘Thank you, miss. His lordship’s words seemed to confirm a rumour which is circulating in the servants’ hall that you are contemplating a matrimonial union with Mr. Wooster. Would it be indiscreet of me if I were to inquire if this is so?’
    ‘Yes, Jeeves, it is quite true.’
    ‘If you will pardon me for saying so, I think you are making a mistake.’
    Well spoken, Jeeves, you are on the right lines, I was saying to myself, and I hoped he was going to rub it in. I waited anxiously for Madeline’s reply, a little afraid that she would draw herself to her full height and dismiss him from her presence. But she didn’t. She merely said again that she didn’t understand him.
    ‘If I might explain, miss. I am loath to criticize my employer, but I feel that you should know that he is a kleptomaniac.’
    ‘What!’
    ‘Yes, miss. I had hoped to be able to preserve his little secret, as I have always done hitherto, but he has now gone to lengths which I cannot countenance. In going through his effects this afternoon I discovered this small black figure, concealed beneath his underwear.’
    I heard Madeline utter a sound like a dying soda-water syphon.
    ‘But that belongs to my father!’
    ‘If I may say so, nothing belongs to anyone if Mr. Wooster takes a fancy to it.’
    ‘Then Lord Sidcup was right?’
    ‘Precisely, miss.’
    ‘He said Mr. Wooster tried to steal my father’s umbrella.’
    ‘I heard him, and the charge was well founded. Umbrellas, jewellery, statuettes, they are all grist to Mr. Wooster’s mill. I do not think he can help it. It is a form of mental illness. But whether a jury would take that view, I cannot say.’
    Madeline went into the soda-syphon routine once more.
    ‘You mean he might be sent to prison?’
    ‘It is a contingency that seems to me far from remote.’
    Again I felt that he was on the right lines. His trained senses told him that if there’s one thing that puts a girl off marrying a chap, it is the thought that the honeymoon may be spoiled at any moment by the arrival of Inspectors at the love nest, come to scoop him in for larceny. No young bride likes that sort of thing, and you can’t blame her if she finds herself preferring to team up with someone like Spode, who, though a gorilla in fairly human shape, is known to keep strictly on the right side of the law. I could almost hear Madeline’s thoughts turning in this direction, and I applauded Jeeves’s sound grip on the psychology of the individual, as he calls it.
    Of course, I could see that all this wasn’t going to make my position in the Bassett home any too good, but there are times when only the surgeon’s knife will serve. And I had the sustaining thought that if ever I got out from behind this sofa I could sneak off to where my car waited champing at the bit and drive off Londonwards without stopping to say goodbye and thanks for a delightful visit. This would obviate - is it obviate? -
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