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Right Ho, Jeeves by P. G. (Pelham Grenville) Wodehouse
page 47 of 357 (13%)
I ask him to put on lavender gloves and a topper and distribute the
prizes at Market Snodsbury Grammar School, there will be a divorce in the
family. He would pin a note to the pincushion and be off like a rabbit.
No, my lad, you're for it, so you may as well make the best of it."

"But, Aunt Dahlia, listen to reason. I assure you, you've got hold of the
wrong man. I'm hopeless at a game like that. Ask Jeeves about the time I
got lugged in to address a girls' school. I made the most colossal ass of
myself."

"And I confidently anticipate that you will make an equally colossal ass
of yourself on the thirty-first of this month. That's why I want you. The
way I look at it is that, as the thing is bound to be a frost, anyway,
one may as well get a hearty laugh out of it. I shall enjoy seeing you
distribute those prizes, Bertie. Well, I won't keep you, as, no doubt,
you want to do your Swedish exercises. I shall expect you in a day or
two."

And with these heartless words she beetled off, leaving me a prey to the
gloomiest emotions. What with the natural reaction after Pongo's party
and this stunning blow, it is not too much to say that the soul was
seared.

And I was still writhing in the depths, when the door opened and Jeeves
appeared.

"Mr. Fink-Nottle to see you, sir," he announced.



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