The Inimitable Jeeves
man, then,” said Eustace, “lend us a fiver.”

I hadn’t time to stop and argue. I unbelted the fiver and hopped into the cab. It was twenty to two when I got to the flat. I bounded into the sitting-room, but it was empty.

Jeeves shimmied in.

“Sir Roderick has not yet arrived, sir.”

“Good egg!” I said. “I thought I should find him smashing up the furniture.” My experience is that the less you want a fellow, the more punctual he’s bound to be, and I had had a vision of the old lad pacing the rug in my sitting-room, saying “He cometh not!” and generally hotting up. “Is everything in order?”

“I fancy you will find the arrangements quite satisfactory, sir.”

“What are you giving us?”

“Cold consommé, a cutlet, and a savoury, sir. With lemon-squash, iced.”

“Well, I don’t see how that can hurt him. Don’t go getting carried away by the excitement of the thing and start bringing in coffee.”

“No, sir.”

“And don’t let your eyes get glassy, because, if you do, you’re apt to find yourself in a padded cell before you know where you are.”

“Very good, sir.”

There was a ring at the bell.

“Stand by, Jeeves,” I said. “We’re off!”

 

CHAPTER VIII SIR RODERICK COMES TO LUNCH

SIR RODERICK COMES TO LUNCH

I had met Sir Roderick Glossop before, of course, but only when I was with Honoria; and there is something about Honoria which makes almost anybody you meet in the same room seem sort of under-sized and trivial by comparison. I had never realised till this moment what an extraordinarily formidable old bird he was. He had a pair of shaggy eyebrows which gave his eyes a piercing look which was not at all the sort of thing a fellow wanted to encounter on an empty stomach. He was 
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