'A member, sir?'

'_The_ member,' said Psmith. 'Surely you participated in the
general rejoicings which ensued when it was announced that I had been
elected? But perhaps you were too busy working to pay any attention. If
so, I respect you. I also am a worker. A toiler, not a flatfish. A
sizzler, not a squab. Yes, I am a member. Will you tell Mr Bickersdyke
that I am sorry, but I have been elected, and have paid my entrance fee
and subscription.'

'Thank you, sir.'

The waiter went downstairs and found Mr Bickersdyke in the lower
smoking-room.

'The gentleman says he is, sir.'

'H'm,' said the bank-manager. 'Coffee and Benedictine, and a cigar.'

'Yes, sir.'

On the following day Mr Bickersdyke met Psmith in the club three times,
and on the day after that seven. Each time the latter's smile was
friendly, but patronizing. Mr Bickersdyke began to grow restless.

On the fourth day Psmith made his first remark. The manager was reading
the evening paper in a corner, when Psmith sinking gracefully into a
chair beside him, caused him to look up.

'The rain keeps off,' said Psmith.