selves in any form of soup is always to roll round and put the thing
up to him. And when he's got A out of a bad spot, A puts B on to him. And
then, when he has fixed up B, B sends C along. And so on, if you get my
drift, and so forth.

That's how these big consulting practices like Jeeves's grow. Old Sippy,
I knew, had been deeply impressed by the man's efforts on his behalf at
the time when he was trying to get engaged to Elizabeth Moon, so it was
not to be wondered at that he should have advised Gussie to apply. Pure
routine, you might say.

"Oh, you're acting for him, are you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now I follow. Now I understand. And what is Gussie's trouble?"

"Oddly enough, sir, precisely the same as that of Mr. Sipperley when I
was enabled to be of assistance to him. No doubt you recall Mr.
Sipperley's predicament, sir. Deeply attached to Miss Moon, he suffered
from a rooted diffidence which made it impossible for him to speak."

I nodded.

"I remember. Yes, I recall the Sipperley case. He couldn't bring himself
to the scratch. A marked coldness of the feet, was there not? I recollect
you saying he was letting--what was it?--letting something do something.
Cats entered into it, if I am not mistaken."

"Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would', sir."

"That's right. But how about the cats?"

"Like the poor cat i' the adage, sir."

"Exactly. It beats me how you think up these things. And Gussie, you say,
is in the same posish?"

"Yes, sir. Each time he endeavours to formulate a proposal of marriage,
his courage fails him."

"And yet, if he wants this female to be his wife, he's got to say so,
what? I mean, only civil to mention it."

"Precisely, sir."

I mused.

"Well, I suppose this was inevitable, Jeeves. I wouldn't have thought
that this Fink-Nottle would ever have fallen a victim to the divine _p_,
but, if he has, no wonder he finds the going sticky."

"Yes, sir."

"Look at the life he's led."

"Yes, sir."

"I don't suppose he has spoken to a girl for years. What a lesson this is
to us, Jeeves, not to shut ourselves up in country houses and stare into
glass tanks. You can't be the dominant male if you do that sort of thing.
In this life, you can choose between two courses. You can either shut
yourself up in a country house and stare into tanks, or you can be a
dasher with the sex. You can't do both."

"No, sir."

I mused once more. Gussie and I, as I say, had rather lost touch, but all