"Let me present Comrade Jackson," said Psmith, "the pet of our
English Smart Set. I am Psmith, one of the Shropshire Psmiths. This
is a great moment. Shall we be moving back? We were about to order
a second instalment of coffee, to correct the effects of a
fatiguing day. Perhaps you would care to join us?"

"Sure," said the alleged duke.

"This," said Psmith, when they were seated, and the head-waiter had
ceased to hover, "is a great meeting. I was complaining with some
acerbity to Comrade Jackson, before you introduced your very
interesting performing-animal speciality, that things in New York
were too quiet, too decorous. I have an inkling, Comrade--"

"Windsor's my name."

"I have an inkling, Comrade Windsor, that we see eye to eye on the
subject."

"I guess that's right. I was raised in the plains, and I lived in
Kentucky a while. There's more doing there in a day than there is
here in a month. Say, how did you fix it with the old man?"

"With Comrade Freddie? I have a certain amount of influence with
him. He is content to order his movements in the main by my
judgment. I assured him that all would be well, and he yielded."
Psmith gazed with interest at the cat, which was lapping milk from
the saucer. "Are you training that animal for a show of some kind,
Comrade Windsor, or is it a domestic pet?"