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Love Among the Chickens by P. G. (Pelham Grenville) Wodehouse
page 52 of 220 (23%)
"The essence of strategy," observed Mr. Chase approvingly, "is
surprise. A neat piece of work!"

I thanked him. He deprecated my thanks. He had, he said, only done his
duty, as expected to by England. He then introduced me to the elderly
Irishman, who was, it seemed, a professor at Dublin University, by
name, Derrick. Whatever it was that he professed, it was something
that did not keep him for a great deal of his time at the University.
He informed me that he always spent his summers at Combe Regis.

"I was surprised to see you at Combe Regis," I said. "When you got out
at Yeovil, I thought I had seen the last of you."

I think I am gifted beyond other men as regards the unfortunate
turning of sentences.

"I meant," I added, "I was afraid I had."

"Ah, of course," he said, "you were in our carriage coming down. I was
confident I had seen you before. I never forget a face."

"It would be a kindness," said Mr. Chase, "if you would forget
Garnet's as now exhibited. You seem to have collected a good deal of
the scenery coming through that hedge."

"I was wondering----" I said. "A wash--if I might----"

"Of course, me boy, of course," said the professor. "Tom, take Mr.
Garnet off to your room, and then we'll have lunch. You'll stay to
lunch, Mr. Garnet?"
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