Money for nothingWodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville)
General
Money for nothing
Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville)
Greed -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Swindlers and swindling -- Fiction
"So there," agreed Hugo, "I was. The happy pair, I knew, were to spend
the honeymoon at Bexhill, so I rushed out and grabbed a taxi and
offered the man double fare if he would get me to Victoria Station in
five minutes. He did it with seconds to spare, but it was too late.
The first thing I saw on reaching the platform was the Bexhill train
pulling out. Bessemer's face was visible in one of the front coaches.
He was leaning out of the window, trying to detach a white satin shoe
which some kind friend had tied to the door handle. And I slumped back
against a passing porter, knowing that this was the end."
"What did you do then?"
"I went back to Ronnie's flat to look up the trains to Rudge. Are
you aware, John, that this place has the rottenest train service in
England? After the five-sixteen, which I'd missed, there isn't anything
till nine-twenty. And, what with having all this on my mind and getting
a bit of dinner and not keeping a proper eye on the clock, I missed
that, too. In the end, I had to take the 3 A.M. milk train. I won't
attempt to describe to you what a hell of a journey it was, but I got
to Rudge at last, and, racing like a hare, rushed to Pat's house. I had
a sort of idea I might intercept the postman and get him to give me my
letter back."
"He wouldn't have done that."
"He didn't have to, as things turned out. Just as I got to the house,
he was coming out after delivering the letters. I think I must have
gone to sleep then, standing up. At any rate, I came to with a deuce of
a start, and I was leaning against Pat's front gate, and there was Pat
looking at me, and I said, 'Hullo!' and she said, 'Hullo! and then she
said in rather a rummy sort of voice that she'd got my letter and read
it and would be delighted to marry me."
"And then?"
"Oh, I said, 'Thanks awfully,' or words to that effect, and tooled off
to the Carmody Arms to get a bite of breakfast. Which I sorely needed,
old boy. And then I think I fell asleep again, because the next thing
I knew was old Judwin, the coffee-room waiter, trying to haul my head
out of the marmalade. After that I came here and stood on this bridge,
thinking things over. And what I want to know from you, John, is what
is to be done."
John reflected.
"It's an awkward business."
"Dashed awkward. It's imperative that I oil out, and yet I don't want
to break the poor girl's heart."
"This will require extraordinarily careful handling."
"Yes."
John reflected again.
"Let me see," he said suddenly, "when did you say Pat got engaged to
you?"
"It must have been around nine, I suppose."
"You're sure?"
"Well, that would be the time the first post would be delivered,
wouldn't it?"
"Yes, but you said you went to sleep after seeing the postman."
"That's true. But what does it matter, anyway?"
"It's most important. Well, look here, it was more than ten minutes
ago, wasn't it?"
"Of course it was."
John's face cleared.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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