"And why not as a Pierrot?" I said, taking up the point which had struck
me before. "Why this break with a grand old tradition?"

"He particularly wanted me to go as Mephistopheles."

I started.

"He did, did he? He specifically recommended that definite costume?"

"Yes."

"Ha!"

"Eh?"

"Nothing. Just 'Ha!'"

And I'll tell you why I said "Ha!" Here was Jeeves making heavy weather
about me wearing a perfectly ordinary white mess jacket, a garment not
only _tout ce qu'il y a de chic_, but absolutely _de rigueur_, and in the
same breath, as you might say, inciting Gussie Fink-Nottle to be a blot
on the London scene in scarlet tights. Ironical, what? One looks askance
at this sort of in-and-out running.

"What has he got against Pierrots?"

"I don't think he objects to Pierrots as Pierrots. But in my case he
thought a Pierrot wouldn't be adequate."