"You're lying!"

Well, I wouldn't have been if he had only waited a minute before
speaking, because the words were hardly out of his mouth before Gussie
was out of the cupboard. I have commented on the speed with which he had
gone in. It was as nothing to the speed with which he emerged. There was
a sort of whir and blur, and he was no longer with us.

I think Tuppy was surprised. In fact, I'm sure he was. Despite the
confidence with which he had stated his view that the cupboard contained
Fink-Nottles, it plainly disconcerted him to have the chap fizzing out at
him like this. He gargled sharply, and jumped back about five feet. The
next moment, however, he had recovered his poise and was galloping down
the corridor in pursuit. It only needed Aunt Dahlia after them, shouting
"Yoicks!" or whatever is customary on these occasions, to complete the
resemblance to a brisk run with the Quorn.

I sank into a handy chair. I am not a man whom it is easy to discourage,
but it seemed to me that things had at last begun to get too complex for
Bertram.

"Jeeves," I said, "all this is a bit thick."

"Yes, sir."

"The head rather swims."

"Yes, sir."

"I think you had better leave me, Jeeves. I shall need to devote the very
closest thought to the situation which has arisen."

"Very good, sir."

The door closed. I lit a cigarette and began to ponder.

-19-

Most chaps in my position, I imagine, would have pondered all the rest of
the evening without getting a bite, but we Woosters have an uncanny knack
of going straight to the heart of things, and I don't suppose it was much
more than ten minutes after I had started pondering before I saw what had
to be done.

What was needed to straighten matters out, I perceived, was a heart-to-
heart talk with Angela. She had caused all the trouble by her mutton-
headed behaviour in saying "Yes" instead of "No" when Gussie, in the
grip of mixed drinks and cerebral excitement, had suggested teaming up.
She must obviously be properly ticked off and made to return him to store.
A quarter of an hour later, I had tracked her down to the summer-house in
which she was taking a cooler and was seating myself by her side.

"Angela," I said, and if my voice was stern, well, whose wouldn't have
been, "this is all perfect drivel."

She seemed to come out of a reverie. She looked at me inquiringly.

"I'm sorry, Bertie, I didn't hear. What were you talking drivel about?"

"I was not ta