October 8, 2025 • 55 mins
06 - Part 6. The Intrusion of Jimmy by P.G. Wodehouse.
The action begins with playboy bachelor Jimmy Pitt in New York; having fallen in love on a transatlantic liner, he befriends a small-time burglar and breaks into a police captain's house as a result of a bet. The cast of characters head to England, and from there on it is a typically Wodehousian romantic farce, set at the stately Dreever Castle, overflowing with imposters, detectives, crooks, scheming lovers and conniving aunts.
The action begins with playboy bachelor Jimmy Pitt in New York; having fallen in love on a transatlantic liner, he befriends a small-time burglar and breaks into a police captain's house as a result of a bet. The cast of characters head to England, and from there on it is a typically Wodehousian romantic farce, set at the stately Dreever Castle, overflowing with imposters, detectives, crooks, scheming lovers and conniving aunts.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Part six of The Intrusion of Jimmy by P. G. Woodhouse.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Intrusion
of Jimmy, Chapter sixteen, a marriage arranged. Neither Molly nor
her father had moved or spoken. While Jimmy was covering
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the short strip of turf that ended at the stone
steps of the house, Mccaegirne stood looking down at her
in grim silence. His great body against the dark mass
of the castle wall, seemed larger than ever in the
uncertain light. To Molly, there was something sinister and menacing
in his attitude. She found herself longing that Jimmy would
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come back. She was frightened. Why, she could not have said.
It was as if some instinct told her that a
crisis in her affairs had been reached, and that she
needed him. For the first time in her life, she
felt nervous in her father's company. Ever since she was
a child, she had been accustomed to look upon him
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as her protector, But now she was afraid. Father. She cried,
what are you doing out here? His voice was tense
and strained. I came out because I wanted to think, Father, dear,
she thought. She knew his moods, but this was one
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that she had never seen. It frightened her. Why did
he come out here, mister Pitt? He brought me a wrap?
What was he saying to you? The rain of questions
gave Molly a sensation of being battered. She felt dazed
and a little muteness. What had she done that she
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should be assailed like this? He was saying nothing, she said,
rather shortly, nothing. What do you mean? What was he saying?
Tell me? Molly's voice shook as she replied he was
saying nothing, She repeated, Do you think I'm not telling
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you the truth? Father? He had not spoken a word
for ever so long? We just walked up and down.
I was thinking, and I suppose he was too. At
any rate, he said nothing. I I think you might
believe me. She began to cry quietly. Her father had
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never been like this before. It hurt her. Mcckegern's manner
changed in a flash. In the shock of finding Jimmy
and Molly together on the terrace, he had forgotten himself.
He had reason to be suspicious. Sir Thomas Blunt, from
whom he had just parted, had told him a certain
piece of news which had disturbed him. The discovery of
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Jimmy with Molly had lent and added significance to that
piece of news. He saw that he had been rough.
In a moment, he was by her side, his great
arm round her shoulder and comforting her, as he had
done when she was a child. He believed her word
without question, and his relief made him very tender. Gradually
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the sobs ceased. She leaned against his arm. I'm tired, father,
she whispered, poor little girl. We'll sit down. There was
a seat at the end of the terrace. The Karen
picked Molly up as if she had been a baby,
and carried her to it. She gave a little cry.
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I didn't mean I was too tired to walk, she said,
laughing tremulously. How strong you are. Father. If I was naughty,
you could take me up and shake me till I
was good, couldn't you? Of course, and send you to
bed too, So you'll be careful, young woman. He lowered
her to the seat. Molly drew the cloak closer round
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her and shivered cold. Dear, no, you shivered. It was nothing,
Yes it was, she went on quickly. It was father,
Will you promise me something. Of course, what don't ever
be angry with me like that again, will you? I
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couldn't bear it, really, I couldn't. I know it's stupid
of me, but it hurt. You don't know how it hurt.
But my dear, Oh, I know it's stupid. But but
my darling, it wasn't so I was angry, but it
wasn't with you. With were you angry with mister Pitt?
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Mc keekren saw that he had traveled too far. He
had intended that Jimmy's existence should be forgotten for the
time being. He had other things to discuss, but it
was too late. Now he must go forward. I didn't
like to see you out here alone with mister Pitt, dear,
he said, I was afraid. He saw that he must
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go still further for forward. It was more than awkward.
He wished to hint at the undesirability of an entanglement
with Jimmy without admitting the possibility of it not. Being
a man of nimble brain, he found this somewhat beyond
his powers. I don't like him, he said briefly. He's crooked.
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Molly's eyes opened wide. The color had gone from her face.
Crooked father mc keechrne perceived that he had traveled very much,
too far, almost to disaster. He longed to denounce Jimmy,
but he was gagged. If Molly were to ask the
question that Jimmy had asked in the bedroom, that fatal,
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unanswerable question, the price was too great to pay. He
spoke cautiously, vaguely, feeling his way. I couldn't explain it
to you, my dear. You wouldn't understand. You must remember,
my dear, that out in New York, I was in
a position to know a great many queer characters, crooks, Molly,
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I was working among them. But Father, that night at
our house, you didn't know mister Pitt. He had to
tell you his name. I didn't know him, then, said
her father, slowly. But but he paused. But I made inquiries.
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He concluded with a rush and found out things. He
permitted himself a long, silent breath of relief. He saw
his way now, inquiries, said Molly, why why why did
you suspect him? A moment earlier the question might have
confused mc chechorn, but not now. He was equal to it.
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He took it in his stride. It's hard to say,
my dear, a man who has had as much to
do with crooks as I have recognize them when he
sees them. Do you think mister Pitt looked looked like that.
Her voice was very small. There was a drawn, pinched
expression on her face. She was paler than ever. He
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could not divine her thoughts. He could not know what
his words had done. How they had shown her in
a flash what Jimmy was to her, and lighted her
mind like a flame, revealing the secret hidden there. She
knew now, the feeling of comradeship, the instinctive trust, the
sense of dependence. They no longer perplexed her. They were
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signs which she could read. And he was crooked. Mcckecherne proceeded.
Belief made him buoyant. I did, my dear. I can
read them like a book. I've met scores of his sort.
Broadway is full of them. Good clothes and a pleasant
manner don't make a man honest. I've run up against
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a mighty high toned bunch of crooks in my day.
It's a long time since I gave up thinking that
it was only the ones with the low foreheads and
the thick ears that needed watching. It's the innocent willies
who look as if all they could do was lead
to the cotillion. This man pits one of them. I'm
not guessing, mind you. I know I know his line
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and all about him. I'm watching him. He's here on
some game. How did he get here? Why he scraped
acquaintance with Lord Dreever in a London restaurant. It's the
commonest trick on the list. If I hadn't happened to
be here when he came, I suppose he'd have made
his haul by now. Why he came all prepared for it?
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Have you seen an ugly, grinning, red headed scoundrel hanging
about the place his valet? So he says, valets, do
you know who that is? That's one of the most
notorious yegman. On the other side, there isn't a policeman
in New York who doesn't know Spike Mulleins. Even if
I knew nothing of this pit, that would be enough.
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What's an innocent man going round the country with Spike
Mulleins for unless they are standing in together at some game.
That's who mister Pitt is, my dear, And that's why
maybe I seemed a little put out when I came
upon you and him out here alone together, see as
little of him as you can in a large party
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like this, it won't be difficult to avoid him. Molly
sat staring out across the garden. At first every word
had been a stab. Several times she had been on
the point of crying out that she could bear it
no longer. But gradually a numbness succeeded the pain. She
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found herself listening apathetically. Mc ckechurne talked on. He left
the subject of Jimmy comfortably, conscious that even if there
had ever existed in Molly's heart any budding feeling of
the kind he had suspected, it must now be dead.
He steered the conversation away until it ran easily among commonplaces.
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He talked of New York, of the preparations for the theatricals.
Molly answered composedly. She was still pale, and a certain
listlessness in her manner might have been noticed by a
more observant man than mister mc keechorn. Beyond this, there
was nothing to show that her heart had been born
and killed but a few minutes before men have the
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red Indian instinct and Molly had grown to womanhood in
those few minutes. Presently, Lord Dreever's name came up. It
caused a momentary pause, and mc keechorn took advantage of it.
It was the cue for which he had been waiting.
He hesitated for a moment, for the conversation was about
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to enter upon a day difficult phase, and he was
not quite sure of himself. Then he took the plunge.
I have just been talking to Sir Thomas, my dear,
he said. He tried to speak casually, and as a
natural result, infused so much meaning into his voice that
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Molly looked at him in surprise. But keecherne coughed confusedly. Diplomacy,
he concluded, was not his forte. He abandoned it in
favor of directness. He was telling me that you had
refused Lord Dreever this evening. Yes, I did, said Molly.
How did Sir Thomas know, Lord Dreaver told him. Molly
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raised her eyebrows. I shouldn't have thought it was the
sort of thing he would talk about, she said. Sir
Thomas is his uncle, of course, so he is, said
Molly dryly. I forgot that would account for it witn't it.
Mister mc keechorn looked at her with some concern. There
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was a hard ring in her voice, which he did
not altogether like. His greatest admirer had never called him
an intuitive man, and he was quite at a loss
to see what was wrong. As a schemer, he was
perhaps a little naive. He had taken it for granted
that Molly was ignorant of the maneuvers which had been
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going on, and which had culminated that afternoon in a
stammering proposal of marriage from Lord Drever in the Rose Garden. This, however,
was not the case. The woman incapable of seeing through
the machinations of two men in the mental caliber of
Sir Thomas Blunt and mister mc keechorn, has yet to
be borne. For some considerable time, Molly had been alive
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to the well meant plottings of that worthy pair, and
had derived little pleasure from the fact. It may be
that woman loves to be pursued, but she does not
love to be pursued by a crowd. Mister mc keechorn
cleared his throat and began again, You shouldn't decide a
question like that too hastily, my dear. I didn't not
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too hastily for Lord Dreaver at any rate, Poor dear,
it was in your power, said mister mc keecorn, portentously,
to make a man happy. I did, said Molly bitterly.
You should have seen his face light up. He could
hardly believe it was true for a moment, and then
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it came home to him, and I thought he would
have fallen on my neck. He did his very best
to look heart broken out of politeness, but it was
no good. He whistled most of the way back to
the house, all flat, but very cheerfully. My dear, what
do you mean? Molly had made the discovery earlier in
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their conversation that her father had at moods whose existence
she had not expected. It was his turn now to
make a similar discovery regarding herself. I mean nothing, father,
she said, I'm just telling you what happened. He came
to me looking like a dog that's going to be washed. Why.
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Of course he was nervous, my dear. Of course he
couldn't know that I was going to refuse him. She
was breathing quickly. He started to speak, but she went
on looking straight before her. Her face was very white
in the moonlight. He took me into the rose garden.
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Was that Sir Thomas's idea? There couldn't have been a
better setting. I'm sure the roses looked lovely presently. I
heard him gulp, and I was so sorry for him.
I would have refused him then and put him out
of his misery. Only I couldn't very well till he
had proposed, could I? So I turned my back and
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sniffed at a rose, and then he shut his eyes.
I couldn't see him, but I know he shut his
eyes and began to say his lesson. Molly, she laughed hysterically.
He did. He said his lesson. He gabbled it when
he had got as far as well, don't you know
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what I mean? Is that's what I wanted to say,
you know. I turned round and soothed them. I said
I didn't love him. He said no, no, of course not.
I said he had paid me a great compliment. He
said not at all, looking very anxious, poor darling, as
if even then he was afraid of what might come next.
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But I reassured him, and he cheered up, and we
walked back to the house together as happy as could be.
The Kakirn put his hand round her shoulders. She winced,
but let it stay. He attempted gruff conciliation. My dear,
you've been imagining things. Of course, he isn't happy. Why
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I saw the young fellow recollecting that the last time
he had seen the young fellow, shortly after dinner, the
young fellow had been occupied in juggling, with every appearance
of mental peace, two billiard balls and a box of matches.
He broke off abruptly. Molly looked at him. Father, my dear,
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why do you want me to marry Lord Driver? He
met the attack stoutly. I think he's a fine young fellow,
he said, avoiding her eyes. He's quite nice, said Molly quietly.
Mc hechurn had been trying not to say it. He
did not wish to say it. If it could have
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been hinted at, he would have done it. But he
was not good at hinting. A lifetime passed in surroundings
where the subtlest hint is. A drive in the ribs
with a truncheon does not leave a man adept at
the art. He had to be blunt or silent. He's
the Earl of Dreever, My dear, he rushed on, desperately,
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anxious to cover the nakedness of the statement in a
comfortable garment of words. Why you see, you're young, Molly.
It's only natural you shouldn't look on these things sensibly.
You expect too much of a man. You expect this
fellow to be like the heroes of the novels you read.
When you've lived a little longer, my dear, you'll see
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that there's nothing in it. It isn't the hero of
the novel you want to marry. It's the man who
make you a good husband. This remark struck mister mc
acharness so pithy and profound that he repeated it. He
went on. Mollie was sitting quite still, looking into the shrubbery.
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He assumed she was listening. But whether she was or not,
he must go on talking. The situation was difficult. Silence
would make it more difficult. Now, look at Lord Dreever,
he said. There's a young man with one of the
oldest titles in England. He could go anywhere and do
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what he liked, and be excused for whatever he did
because of his name. But he doesn't he's got the
right stuff in him. He doesn't go racketing around. His
uncle doesn't allow him enough pocket money, said Molly with
a jarring little laugh. Perhaps that's why there was a pause,
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but Keechern required a few moments in which to marshal
his arguments. Once more. He had been thrown out of
his stride. Molly turned to him. The hardness had gone
from her face. She looked up at him wistfully. Father, dear, listen,
she said, We always used to understand each other so well.
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He patted her shoulder affectionately. You can't mean what you say,
you know. I don't love Lord Dreever. You know he's
only a boy. Don't you want me to marry a man?
I love this old place, But surely you can't think
that it can really matter in a thing like this.
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You don't really mean that about the hero of the novel.
I'm not stupid like that. I only once. Oh, I
can't put it into words, but don't you see Her
eyes were fixed appealingly on him. It only needed a
word from him, perhaps not even a word, to close
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the gulf that had opened between them. He missed the chance.
He had had time to think and his arguments were
ready again. With stolid, good humor, he marched along the
line he had mapped out. He kindly and shrewd and practical,
and the gulf gaped wider with every word. You mustn't
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be rash, my dear. You mustn't act without thinking in
these things. Lord Dreaver is only a boy, as you say,
but he will grow. You say you don't love him, nonsense,
You like him. You would go on liking him more
and more. And why because you could make what you
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pleased of him. You've got character, my dear. With a
girl like you to look after him, he would go
a long way, a very long way. It's all there.
It only wants bringing out. And think of it, Molly,
Countess of Dreever. There's hardly a better title in England.
It would make me very happy, my dear. It's been
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my one hope all these years to see you in
the place where you ought to be, And now the
chance has come, Molly, dear, don't throw it away. She
leaned back with closed eyes. A wave of exhaustion had
swept over her. She listened in a dull dream. She
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felt beaten. They were too strong for her. There were
too many of them. What did it matter? Why not
give in and end it all and win peace? That
was all she wanted? Peace? Now, what did it all matter?
Very well, father, she said listlessly. Mc keechorn stopped short.
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You'll do it, dear, he cried, you will very well. Father.
He stooped and kissed her, My own, dear little girl,
he said. She got up. I'm rather tired, father, She said,
I think i'll go in. Two minutes later, mister mc
keechorn was in Sir Thomas Blunt's study. Five minutes utes later,
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Sir Thomas pressed the bell. Saunders appeared tell his lordship,
said Sir Thomas that I wish to see him in
a moment. He is in the billiard room. I think
chapter seventeen. Jimmy remember something. The game between Hargate and
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Lord Dreaver was still in progress when Jimmy returned to
the billiard room. A glance at the board showed that
the score was seventy sixty nine in favor of Spot.
Good game, said Jimmy, Whose spot I am? Said? His
lordship missing an easy cannon for some reason. He appeared
in high spirits. Hargate's been going great guns I was
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eleven ahead a moment ago, but he made a break
of twelve. Lord Dreaver belonged to the class of billiard players,
to whom a double figure break is a thing to
be noted and greeted with respect. Fluky muttered the silent
hargate deprecatingly. This was a long speech for him. Since
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their meeting at Paddington Station, Jimmy had seldom heard him
utter anything beyond a monosyllable. Not a bit of it,
dear old Son, said Lord Dreaver, handsomely, you're coming on
like a two year old. I shan't be able to
give you twenty in a hundred much longer. He went
to a side table and mixed himself a whiskey and soda,
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singing a brief extract from musical comedy as he did so.
There could be no shadow of doubt that he was
finding life good. For the past few days, and particularly
that afternoon, he had been rather noticeably ill at ease.
Jimmy had seen him hanging about the terrace at half
past five and had thought that he looked like a
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mute at a funeral. But now only a few hours
later he was beaming on the world and chirping like
a bird. The game moved jerkily along. Jimmy took a
seat and watched the score mounted slowly. Lord Dreaver was bad,
but Hargate was worse. At length in the eighties, his
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Lordship struck a brilliant vein. When he had finished his break,
his score was ninety five. Hargate, who had profited by
a series of misses on his opponent's part, had reached
ninety six. This is shortening my life, said Jimmy, leaning forward.
The balls had been left in an ideal position. Even
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Hargate could not fail to make a cannon. He made
it a close finish to even the worst game is exciting.
Jimmy leaned still further forward to watch the next stroke.
It looked as if Hargate would have to wait for
his victory. A good player could have made a cannon
as the balls lay, but not Hargate. They were almost
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in a straight line, with White in the center. Hargate
swore under his breath there was nothing to be done.
He struck carelessly at white. White, rolled against red, seemed
to hang for a moment, and shot straight back against
the spot. The game was over. Great Scott. What a fluke,
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cried the silent one, becoming quite garrulous at the miracle.
A quiet grin spread itself slowly across Jimmy's face. He
had remembered what he had been trying to remember for
over a week. At this moment, the door opened and
Saunders appeared. Sir Thomas would like to see your lordship
in his study. He said, eh, what does he want?
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Sir Thomas did not confide in me your lordship? Eh? What? Oh? No,
well see you later, you men. He rested his cue
against the table and put on his coat. Jimmy followed
him out of the door, which he shut behind him
one second driaver he said, Eh, hello, what's up? Any
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money on that game, asked Jimmy. Why, yes, by jove,
now you mention it there was an even fiver, and
erm by the way, old man, the fact is just
for the moment, I'm frightfully. You haven't such a thing
as a fiver anywhere about, have you? The fact is,
my dear fellow. Of course I'll square up with him now,
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shall I? Fearfully obliged? If you would, thanks, old man,
pay it tomorrow. No hurry, said Jimmy, plenty more in
the old oak chest. He went back to the room.
Hargate was practicing cannons. He was on the point of
making a stroke when Jimmy opened the door. Care for
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a game, asked Hargate. Not just at the present, said Jimmy.
Hargate attempted his cannon and failed badly. Jimmy smiled. Not
such a good shot as the last, he said, No
fine shot that other fluke. I wonder. Jimmy lighted a cigarette.
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Do you know New York at all? He asked? Been
there ever been in the Stroller's Club. Hargate turned his back,
but Jimmy had seen his face and was satisfied. Don't
know it, said Hargate. Great plays, said Jimmy, Mostly actors
and writers and so on. The only drawback is that
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some of them pick up queer friends. Hargate did not reply.
He did not seem interested. Yes, went on Jimmy. For instance,
a pal of mine, an actor named Mifflin, introduced a
man a year ago as a member's guest for a fortnight.
And this man rooked the fellows of I don't know
how much at Billiard's the old game, you know, nursing
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his man right up to the end, and then finishing
with a burst. Of course, when that happens once or twice,
it may be an accident. But when a man who
poses as a novice always manages by a really brilliant shot.
Hargate turned round. They fired this fellow out, said Jimmy,
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look here, yes, what do you mean? It's a dull yarn?
Said Jimmy apologetically. I've been boring you. By the way,
Dreaver asked me to square up with you for that game,
in case he shouldn't be back. Here you are, he
held out an empty hand. Got it. What are you
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going to do? Demanded Hargate. What am I going to do?
Queried Jimmy, You know what I mean? If you'll keep
your mouth shut and stand in it's halves, is that
what you're after? Jimmy was delighted. He knew that, by rights,
the proposal should have brought him from his seat with
stern set face to wreak vengeance for the insult, But
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on such occasions he was apt to ignore the conventions.
His impulse when he met a man whose code of
behavior was not the ordinary code was to chat with
him and extract his point of view. He felt as
little animous against Hargate as he had felt against Spike
on the occasion of their first meeting. Do you make
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much of this sort of game, he asked. Hargate was
relieved this was business like Potts, He said, with some enthusiasm.
Pots I tell you if you'll stand in bit risky,
isn't it not a bit of it? An occasional accident?
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I suppose you'd call me one. Hargate grinned. It must
be pretty tough work, said Jimmy. You must have to
use a tremendous lot of self restraint. Hargate sighed, that's
the worst of it. He admitted. The have to seem
a mug at the game. I've been patronized sometimes by
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young fools who thought they were teaching me until I
nearly forgot myself and showed them what real billiards was.
There's always some drawback to the learned professions, said Jimmy.
But there's a heap to make up for it in
this one, said Hargate. Well, look, here, is it a
deal you'll stand in? Jimmy shook his head. I guess not,
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he said. It's good of you, but commercial speculation never
was in my line. I'm afraid you must count me
out of this. What you're going to tell? No, said Jimmy.
I'm not I'm not a vigilance committee. I won't tell
a soul. Why then, began Hargate relieved a less of course.
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Jimmy went on, you play billiards again while you're here.
Hargate stared, But damn it, man, if I don't, what's
the good look here? What am I to do? If
they asked me to play? Give your wrist as an
excuse my wrist? Yes, you sprained it tomorrow after breakfast.
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It was bad luck. I wonder how you came to
do it. You didn't sprain it much, just enough to
stop you playing billiards, Hargate reflected. Understand, said Jimmy. Oh
very well, said Hargate, sullenly. But he burst out. If
I ever get a chance to get even with you,
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you won't, said Jimmy. Dismiss the rosy dream get even.
You don't know me. There's not a flaw in my armor.
I'm a sort of modern addition of the Stainless Night.
Tennyson drew Galahad from me. I moved through life with
almost a sickening absence of sin. But hush, we are observed.
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At least we shall be in another minute. Somebody's coming
down the passage. You do understand, don't you? Sprained wrist
is the watchword. The handle turned. It was Lord Dreaver,
back again from his interview. Hello, Dreaver, said, Jimmy, we've
missed you. Hargate has been doing his best to amuse
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me with acrobatic tricks. But you're too reckless, Hargate, old man,
mark my words, one of these days you'll be spraining
your wrist. You should be careful. What going? Good night,
pleasant fellow, Hargate. He added, as the footsteps retreated down
the passage. Well, my lad, what's the matter with you?
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You look depressed? Lord Dreaver flung himself to the lounge
and groaned hollowly. Damn, damn, damn. He observed, his glassy
eye met Jimmy's and wandered away again. What on earth's
the matter? Demanded Jimmy. You go out of here carolling
(33:06):
like a songbird, and you come back moaning like a
lost soul. What's happened? Give me a brandy and soda pit,
old man, there's a good chap. I'm in a fearful hole.
Why what's the matter? I'm engaged, groaned his lordship. Engaged.
I wish you'd explain what on earth's wrong with you?
(33:30):
Don't you want to be engaged? What's your he broke
off as a sudden, awful suspicion dawned upon him. Who
is she? He cried? He gripped the stricken peer's shoulder
and shook it savagely. Unfortunately he selected the precise moment
when the latter was in the act of calming his
quivering nerve centers with a gulp of brandy and soda,
(33:53):
and for the space of some two minutes it seemed
as if the engagement would be broken off by the
premature extinction of the d line. A long and painful
fit of coughing, however, ended with his lordship still alive
and on the road to recovery. He eyed jimmy reproachfully,
but Jimmy was in no mood for apologies. Who is she?
(34:16):
He kept demanding? What's her name? Might have killed me,
grumbled the convalescent. Who is she? What? Why? Miss mc keeckurn.
Jimmy had known what the answer would be, but it
was scarcely less of a shock for that reason, Miss
mc keeckurn, he echoed. Lord Dreaver nodded a somber nod.
(34:41):
You're engaged to her another somber nod. I don't believe it,
said Jimmy. I wish I didn't, said his lordship wistfully,
ignoring the slight rudeness of the remark. But worse luck,
it's true. For the first time since the disclos closure
of the name, Jimmy's attention was directed to the remarkable
(35:03):
demeanor of his successful rival. You don't seem over pleased,
he said, pleased have a fiver each way on pleased? No,
I'm not exactly leaping with joy? Then, what the devil
is it all about? What do you mean? What's the idea?
If you don't want to marry miss mc echorn, why
(35:26):
did you propose to her? Lord Dreaver closed his eyes.
Dear old boy, don't it's my uncle, Your uncle. Didn't
I explain it all to you about you wanting me
to marry You know I told you the whole thing.
Jimmy stared in silence. Do you mean to say, he said, slowly?
(35:51):
He stopped. It was a profanation to put the thing
into words, What old man, Jimmy gulped. Do you mean
to say you want to marry miss mc keechern simply
because she has money? He said. It was not the
first time that he had heard of a case of
a British peer marrying for such a reason, but it
(36:12):
was the first time that the thing had filled him
with horror. In some circumstances, things come home more forcibly
to us. It's not me, old man, murmured his lordship,
it's my uncle, your uncle. Good God. Jimmy clenched his
hands despairingly. Do you mean to say that you let
(36:34):
your uncle order you about in a thing like this?
Do you mean to say you're such a such a
such a gelatine backboneless worm, old man, I say, protested
his lordship. Wounded, I'd call you a wretched knock need skunk.
Only I don't want to be fulsome I hate flattering
(36:55):
a man to his face. Lord Dreever, deeply pained, half
rose from his seat. Don't get up, urged Jimmy smoothly.
I couldn't trust myself. His lordship subsided hastily. He was
feeling alarmed. He had never seen this side of Jimmy's character.
(37:16):
At first, he had been merely aggrieved and disappointed. He
had expected sympathy. Now the matter had become more serious.
Jimmy was pacing the room like a young and hungry
tiger at present. It was true there was a billiard
table between them, but his lordship felt that he could
have done with good stout bars. He nestled in his
(37:40):
seat with the earnest concentration of a limpet on a rock.
It would be deuce, a bad form, of course, for
Jimmy to assault his host. But could Jimmy be trusted
to remember the niceties of etiquette? Why the devil she
accepted you? I can't think, said Jimmy half to himself,
stopping suddenly and glaring across the table. Lord Dreaver felt relieved.
(38:06):
This was not polite, perhaps, but at least it was
not violent. That's what beats me, too, old man, he said,
between you and me, it's jolly rum business this afternoon.
What about this afternoon? Why she wouldn't have me at
any price? You asked her this afternoon? Yes, and it
(38:31):
was all right? Then she refused me like a bird.
Wouldn't hear of it came damn near laughing in my face.
Then to night, he went on, his voice squeaky at
the thought of his wrongs. My uncle sends for me
and says she's changed her mind and is waiting for
(38:52):
me in the morning room. I go there, and she
tells me in about three words that she's been thinking
it over and that the whole fearful thing is on again.
I call it jolly rough on a chap. I felt
such a frightful ass, you know, I didn't know what
to do, whether to kiss her, I mean, Jimmy snorted violently. Eh,
(39:15):
said his lordship blankly. Go on, said Jimmy between his teeth.
I felt a fearful fool. You know, I just said, right,
ho something dash it? If I know what I did
say and legged it. It's a jolly rum business, the
whole thing. It isn't as if she wanted me. I
(39:36):
could see that with half an eye. She doesn't care
hang for me. It's my belief, old man, he said, solemnly,
that she's been badgered into it. I believe my uncle's
been at her. Jimmy laughed shortly. My dear man, you
seem to think your uncle's persuasive influence is universal. I
(39:57):
guess it's confined to you. Well, anyhow, I believe that's
what's happened. What do you say? Why say anything? There
doesn't seem to be much need. He poured some brandy
into a glass and added a little soda. You take
it pretty stiff, observed his lordship with a touch of envy.
(40:21):
On occasion, said Jimmy emptying the glass Chapter eighteen, The
lachin Var Method. As Jimmy sat smoking a last cigarette
in his bedroom before going to bed that night, Spike
Mullins came in. Jimmy had been thinking things over. He
(40:41):
was one of those men who are at their best
in a losing game. Imminent disaster always had the effect
of keying him up and putting an edge on his mind.
The news he had heard that night had left him
with undiminished determination, but conscious that a change of method
would be needed. He mustake all on a single throw. Now,
(41:02):
Young Lochinvar, rather than Romeo, must be his model. He
declined to believe himself incapable of getting anything that he
wanted as badly as he wanted Molly. He also declined
to believe that she was really attached to Lord Dreever.
He suspected the hand of mc keechern in the affair,
though the suspicion did not clear up the mystery by
(41:23):
any means. Molly was a girl of character, not a
feminine counterpart of his lordship, content meekly to do what
she was told in a matter of this kind. The
whole thing puzzled him well, Spike, he said, he was
not too pleased at the interruption. He was thinking, and
he wanted to be alone. Something appeared to have disturbed Spike.
(41:48):
His bearing was excited. Say, Boss, guess what you know?
That guide to come this afternoon? The guy from the
village that came? What old man mckekan Gaylor said, Jimmy,
what about him? There had been an addition to the
guests at the castle that afternoon. Mister mc keckorn, walking
in the village had happened upon an old New York
(42:11):
acquaintance of his, who touring England, had reached driver and
was anxious to see the historic castle. Mister mc keeckron
had brought him thither, introduced him to Sir Thomas, and
now mister Samuel Gaylor was occupying a room on the
same floor as Jimmy's. He had appeared at dinner that night,
a short, wooden faced man with no more conversation than Hargate.
(42:35):
Jimmy had paid little attention to the newcomer. What about him,
he said? He's a slut, boss A what a slot?
A detective, that's right, A fly cop. What makes you
think that? Tink? Why? I can tell them by their
(42:56):
eyes and their feet and the whole of them. I
could pick out a I come from a bunch of
a thousand. He's sure enough slewed, all right, all right?
I seen him rubber in at you's boss, at me?
Why at me? Why? Of course? I see? Now our
friend mcckechern has got him in to spy on us.
(43:18):
That's right, Boss, of course you may be mistaken, Not me, boss,
and say he ain't the only one. What more detectives?
They'll have to put up house full boards at this rate.
Who's the other? A mug? What's down in the soyvants hall?
(43:39):
I wasn't so sure of him at foist, but now
I'm onto his curves. He's a sleut, all right. He's
valley to Sir Thomas, This second mugg is but he
ain't no valley he's come to see No one don't
get busy with the jewels? Say what do you stink
of them? Jewels? Boss, finest I ever saw? Yes, that's right,
(44:03):
a hundred thousand plunks. They set him back, dared the limit,
ain't they say? Won't youse really, Spike, I'm surprised at you.
Do you know you're getting a regular mephistophelely? Spike? Suppose
I hadn't an iron will what would happen? You really
must select your subjects of conversation more carefully, your bad
(44:27):
company for the likes of me. Spike shuffled despondently, but
Boss Jimmy shook his head. It can't be done, my lad.
But it can, Boss protested Spike. It's dead easy. I've
been up to the room and I seen the box
with the jewels is kept in. Why it's the softest ever.
(44:50):
We could get them as easy as pulling the plug
out of a bottle. Oh, I say, there's never been
such a peach of a place for getting hold of
the stuff as this house. That's right, Boss, Why look
what I got this afternoon, just snooping around and not
really trying to get busy at all. It was just
lying about. He plunged his hand into his pocket and
(45:12):
drew it out again. As he unclosed his fingers, Jimmy
caught the gleam of precious stones. What the he gasped.
Spike was looking at his treasure trove with an air
of affectionate proprietorship. Where on earth did you get those,
asked Jimmy out of one of the rooms. They belonged to,
(45:34):
one of the loydies. It was the easiest old thing ever, Boss,
I just went in when there was nobody around, and
there they was on the toybo I never budded into
anything so soft, Spike. Yes, Boss, do you remember the
room you took them from? Sure? It was to foist
on the Then listen to me for a moment, my
(45:56):
bright boy, when we're at breakfast tomorrow. You want to
go to that room and put those things back, all
of them, mind you, just where you found them. Do
you understand Spike's jaw had fallen? Put them back, Boss,
He faltered, every single one of them, Boss, said Spike, plaintively.
(46:20):
Remember every single one of them, just where it belongs.
See very well, Boss. The dejection in his voice would
have moved the sterness to pity. Gloom had enveloped Spike's spirit.
The sunlight had gone out of his life. It had
also gone out of the lives of a good many
(46:41):
other people at the castle. This was mainly due to
the growing shadow of the day of the theatricals. For
pure discomfort. There are few things in the world that
can compete with the final rehearsals of an amateur theatrical
performance at a country house. Every day the atmosphere becomes
more heavily charged with restlessness and depression. The producer of
(47:04):
the piece, especially if he be also the author of it,
develops a sort of intermittent insanity. He plucks at his
mustache if he has one, at his hair if he
has not. He mutters to himself. He gives vent to
occasional despairing cries. The soothing suavity that marked his demeanor
(47:25):
in the earlier rehearsals disappears. He no longer says, with
a winning smile, splendid, old man, splendid couldn't be better.
But I think we'll take that over just once more,
if you don't mind. Instead, he rolls his eyes and
snaps out once more, please, this'll never do at this rate,
(47:47):
we might just as well cut out the show altogether.
What's that? No, it won't be all right on the night. Now,
then once more, and do pull yourself together this time.
After this, the scene is sulkily resumed, and conversation when
the parties concerned meet subsequently is cold and strained. Matters
(48:09):
had reached this stage at the Castle. Everybody was thoroughly
tired of the piece, and but for the thought of
the disappointment which presumably would rack the neighboring nobility and
gentry if it were not to be produced, would resign
their places without a twinge of regret. People who had
schemed to get the best and longest parts were wishing
(48:30):
now that they had been content with first Footmen or
Giles a villager. I'll never run an amateur show again
as long as I live, confided. Charteris to Jimmy, almost tearfully.
It's not good enough. Most of them aren't word perfect yet.
It'll be all right. Oh don't say it'll be all
(48:53):
right on the night. I wasn't going to, said Jimmy.
I was going to say it'll be all right after
the night. People will soon forget how badly the thing went.
You're a nice, comforting sort of man, aren't you, said
charteris why worry, said Jimmy. If you go on like this,
(49:15):
it'll be Westminster Abbey for you in your prime. You'll
be getting brain fever. Jimmy himself was one of the
few who were feeling reasonably cheerful. He was deriving a
keen amusement at present from the maneuvers of mister Samuel
Gaylor of New York. This lynx eyed man, having been
instructed by mister mc keechrn to watch Jimmy, was doing
(49:39):
so with a thoroughness that would have roused the suspicions
of a babe. If Jimmy went to the billiard room
after dinner, mister Gaylor was there to keep him company.
If during the course of the day he had occasion
to fetch a handkerchief or a cigarette case from his room,
he was sure on emerging to stumble upon mister Gaylor
(49:59):
in the corridor the employees of Dodson's Private Inquiry Agency
believed in earning their salaries. Occasionally, after these encounters, Jimmy
would come upon Sir Thomas Blunt's valet, the other man
in whom Spike's trained eye had discerned the distinguishing marks
of the sleuth. He was usually somewhere round the corner
(50:20):
at these moments, and when collided with, apologized with great politeness.
Jimmy decided that he must have come under suspicion in
this case vicariously through Spike. Spike in the servants hall
would of course stand out conspicuously enough to catch the
eye of a detective on the lookout for sin among
(50:42):
the servants, and he himself, as Spike's employer, had been
marked down as a possible confederate. It tickled him to
think that both these giant brains should be so greatly exercised.
On his account, he had been watching Molly closely during
these days. So far no announcement of the engagement had
(51:04):
been made. It struck him that possibly it was being
reserved for public mention of the night of the theatricals.
The whole county would be at the castle. Then there
could be no more fitting moment. He sounded Lord Reaver,
and the latter said moodily that he was probably right.
(51:25):
There's going to be a dance of sorts after the show,
he said, and it'll be done then I suppose no
getting out of it. After that, it'll be all over
the county. Trust my uncle for that. He'll get on
a table and shout it shouldn't wonder, and it'll be
in the morning post next day, and Katie'll see it.
(51:46):
Only two days more, Oh, Lord Jimmy deduced that Katy
was the savoy girl concerning whom his lordship had vouchsafed
no particular save that she was a ripper, and the
penny only two days. Like the Battle of Waterloo, it
was going to be a close run affair. More than ever.
(52:09):
Now he realized how much Molly meant to him, and
there were moments when it seemed to him that she
too had begun to understand. That night on the terrace
seemed somehow to have changed their relationship. He thought he
had got closer to her. They were in touch before.
She had been frank, cheerful, unembarrassed. Now he noticed a
(52:32):
constraint in her manner, a curious shyness. There was a
barrier between them, but it was not the old barrier.
He had ceased to be one of a crowd. But
it was a race against time. The first day slipped
by a blank and the second till now it was
but a matter of hours the last afternoon had come.
(52:56):
Not even mister Samuel Gaylor of Dodson's Private in Quiry
Agency could have kept a more unflagging watch than did
Jimmy during those hours. There was no rehearsal that afternoon,
and the members of the company, in various stages of
nervous collapse, strayed distractedly about the grounds. First one then
(53:17):
another would seize upon Molly, while Jimmy, watching from afar,
cursed their pertinacity. At last, she wandered off alone, and Jimmy,
quitting his ambush, followed. She walked in the direction of
the lake. It had been a terribly hot, oppressive afternoon.
(53:37):
There was thunder in the air through the trees. The
lake glittered invitingly. She was standing at the water's edge
when Jimmy came up. Her back was turned. She was
rocking with her foot a Canadian canoe that lay alongside
the bank. She started as he spoke. His feet on
the soft turf had made no sound. Can I take
(54:00):
you out on the lake? He said. She did not
answer for a moment. She was plainly confused. I'm sorry,
she said, Ay, I'm waiting for Lord Driaver. Jimmy saw
that she was nervous. There was tension in the air.
She was looking away from him, out across the lake,
(54:22):
and her face was flushed. Won't you, he said, I'm sorry,
she said again. Jimmy looked over his shoulder down the
lower terrace was approaching the long form of his lordship.
He walked with pensive jerkiness, not as one hurrying to
a welcome tryst. As Jimmy looked, he vanished behind the
(54:46):
great clump of laurels that stood on the lowest terrace.
In another minute he would reappear round them, gently, but
with extreme despatch. Jimmy placed a hand on either side
of Molly's waist. The next moment he had swung her
off her feet and lowered her carefully to the cushions
in the bow of the canoe. Then, jumping in himself
(55:08):
with a force that made the boat rock, he loosened
the mooring rope, seized the paddle, and pushed off. End
of Part six
Part six of The Intrusion of Jimmy by P. G. Woodhouse.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The Intrusion
of Jimmy, Chapter sixteen, a marriage arranged. Neither Molly nor
her father had moved or spoken. While Jimmy was covering
(00:21):
the short strip of turf that ended at the stone
steps of the house, Mccaegirne stood looking down at her
in grim silence. His great body against the dark mass
of the castle wall, seemed larger than ever in the
uncertain light. To Molly, there was something sinister and menacing
in his attitude. She found herself longing that Jimmy would
(00:42):
come back. She was frightened. Why, she could not have said.
It was as if some instinct told her that a
crisis in her affairs had been reached, and that she
needed him. For the first time in her life, she
felt nervous in her father's company. Ever since she was
a child, she had been accustomed to look upon him
(01:03):
as her protector, But now she was afraid. Father. She cried,
what are you doing out here? His voice was tense
and strained. I came out because I wanted to think, Father, dear,
she thought. She knew his moods, but this was one
(01:23):
that she had never seen. It frightened her. Why did
he come out here, mister Pitt? He brought me a wrap?
What was he saying to you? The rain of questions
gave Molly a sensation of being battered. She felt dazed
and a little muteness. What had she done that she
(01:44):
should be assailed like this? He was saying nothing, she said,
rather shortly, nothing. What do you mean? What was he saying?
Tell me? Molly's voice shook as she replied he was
saying nothing, She repeated, Do you think I'm not telling
(02:04):
you the truth? Father? He had not spoken a word
for ever so long? We just walked up and down.
I was thinking, and I suppose he was too. At
any rate, he said nothing. I I think you might
believe me. She began to cry quietly. Her father had
(02:24):
never been like this before. It hurt her. Mcckegern's manner
changed in a flash. In the shock of finding Jimmy
and Molly together on the terrace, he had forgotten himself.
He had reason to be suspicious. Sir Thomas Blunt, from
whom he had just parted, had told him a certain
piece of news which had disturbed him. The discovery of
(02:47):
Jimmy with Molly had lent and added significance to that
piece of news. He saw that he had been rough.
In a moment, he was by her side, his great
arm round her shoulder and comforting her, as he had
done when she was a child. He believed her word
without question, and his relief made him very tender. Gradually
(03:10):
the sobs ceased. She leaned against his arm. I'm tired, father,
she whispered, poor little girl. We'll sit down. There was
a seat at the end of the terrace. The Karen
picked Molly up as if she had been a baby,
and carried her to it. She gave a little cry.
(03:30):
I didn't mean I was too tired to walk, she said,
laughing tremulously. How strong you are. Father. If I was naughty,
you could take me up and shake me till I
was good, couldn't you? Of course, and send you to
bed too, So you'll be careful, young woman. He lowered
her to the seat. Molly drew the cloak closer round
(03:53):
her and shivered cold. Dear, no, you shivered. It was nothing,
Yes it was, she went on quickly. It was father,
Will you promise me something. Of course, what don't ever
be angry with me like that again, will you? I
(04:13):
couldn't bear it, really, I couldn't. I know it's stupid
of me, but it hurt. You don't know how it hurt.
But my dear, Oh, I know it's stupid. But but
my darling, it wasn't so I was angry, but it
wasn't with you. With were you angry with mister Pitt?
(04:36):
Mc keekren saw that he had traveled too far. He
had intended that Jimmy's existence should be forgotten for the
time being. He had other things to discuss, but it
was too late. Now he must go forward. I didn't
like to see you out here alone with mister Pitt, dear,
he said, I was afraid. He saw that he must
(04:58):
go still further for forward. It was more than awkward.
He wished to hint at the undesirability of an entanglement
with Jimmy without admitting the possibility of it not. Being
a man of nimble brain, he found this somewhat beyond
his powers. I don't like him, he said briefly. He's crooked.
(05:20):
Molly's eyes opened wide. The color had gone from her face.
Crooked father mc keechrne perceived that he had traveled very much,
too far, almost to disaster. He longed to denounce Jimmy,
but he was gagged. If Molly were to ask the
question that Jimmy had asked in the bedroom, that fatal,
(05:42):
unanswerable question, the price was too great to pay. He
spoke cautiously, vaguely, feeling his way. I couldn't explain it
to you, my dear. You wouldn't understand. You must remember,
my dear, that out in New York, I was in
a position to know a great many queer characters, crooks, Molly,
(06:05):
I was working among them. But Father, that night at
our house, you didn't know mister Pitt. He had to
tell you his name. I didn't know him, then, said
her father, slowly. But but he paused. But I made inquiries.
(06:26):
He concluded with a rush and found out things. He
permitted himself a long, silent breath of relief. He saw
his way now, inquiries, said Molly, why why why did
you suspect him? A moment earlier the question might have
confused mc chechorn, but not now. He was equal to it.
(06:50):
He took it in his stride. It's hard to say,
my dear, a man who has had as much to
do with crooks as I have recognize them when he
sees them. Do you think mister Pitt looked looked like that.
Her voice was very small. There was a drawn, pinched
expression on her face. She was paler than ever. He
(07:14):
could not divine her thoughts. He could not know what
his words had done. How they had shown her in
a flash what Jimmy was to her, and lighted her
mind like a flame, revealing the secret hidden there. She
knew now, the feeling of comradeship, the instinctive trust, the
sense of dependence. They no longer perplexed her. They were
(07:37):
signs which she could read. And he was crooked. Mcckecherne proceeded.
Belief made him buoyant. I did, my dear. I can
read them like a book. I've met scores of his sort.
Broadway is full of them. Good clothes and a pleasant
manner don't make a man honest. I've run up against
(08:00):
a mighty high toned bunch of crooks in my day.
It's a long time since I gave up thinking that
it was only the ones with the low foreheads and
the thick ears that needed watching. It's the innocent willies
who look as if all they could do was lead
to the cotillion. This man pits one of them. I'm
not guessing, mind you. I know I know his line
(08:24):
and all about him. I'm watching him. He's here on
some game. How did he get here? Why he scraped
acquaintance with Lord Dreever in a London restaurant. It's the
commonest trick on the list. If I hadn't happened to
be here when he came, I suppose he'd have made
his haul by now. Why he came all prepared for it?
(08:48):
Have you seen an ugly, grinning, red headed scoundrel hanging
about the place his valet? So he says, valets, do
you know who that is? That's one of the most
notorious yegman. On the other side, there isn't a policeman
in New York who doesn't know Spike Mulleins. Even if
I knew nothing of this pit, that would be enough.
(09:11):
What's an innocent man going round the country with Spike
Mulleins for unless they are standing in together at some game.
That's who mister Pitt is, my dear, And that's why
maybe I seemed a little put out when I came
upon you and him out here alone together, see as
little of him as you can in a large party
(09:32):
like this, it won't be difficult to avoid him. Molly
sat staring out across the garden. At first every word
had been a stab. Several times she had been on
the point of crying out that she could bear it
no longer. But gradually a numbness succeeded the pain. She
(09:53):
found herself listening apathetically. Mc ckechurne talked on. He left
the subject of Jimmy comfortably, conscious that even if there
had ever existed in Molly's heart any budding feeling of
the kind he had suspected, it must now be dead.
He steered the conversation away until it ran easily among commonplaces.
(10:15):
He talked of New York, of the preparations for the theatricals.
Molly answered composedly. She was still pale, and a certain
listlessness in her manner might have been noticed by a
more observant man than mister mc keechorn. Beyond this, there
was nothing to show that her heart had been born
and killed but a few minutes before men have the
(10:38):
red Indian instinct and Molly had grown to womanhood in
those few minutes. Presently, Lord Dreever's name came up. It
caused a momentary pause, and mc keechorn took advantage of it.
It was the cue for which he had been waiting.
He hesitated for a moment, for the conversation was about
(10:59):
to enter upon a day difficult phase, and he was
not quite sure of himself. Then he took the plunge.
I have just been talking to Sir Thomas, my dear,
he said. He tried to speak casually, and as a
natural result, infused so much meaning into his voice that
(11:19):
Molly looked at him in surprise. But keecherne coughed confusedly. Diplomacy,
he concluded, was not his forte. He abandoned it in
favor of directness. He was telling me that you had
refused Lord Dreever this evening. Yes, I did, said Molly.
How did Sir Thomas know, Lord Dreaver told him. Molly
(11:44):
raised her eyebrows. I shouldn't have thought it was the
sort of thing he would talk about, she said. Sir
Thomas is his uncle, of course, so he is, said
Molly dryly. I forgot that would account for it witn't it.
Mister mc keechorn looked at her with some concern. There
(12:06):
was a hard ring in her voice, which he did
not altogether like. His greatest admirer had never called him
an intuitive man, and he was quite at a loss
to see what was wrong. As a schemer, he was
perhaps a little naive. He had taken it for granted
that Molly was ignorant of the maneuvers which had been
(12:26):
going on, and which had culminated that afternoon in a
stammering proposal of marriage from Lord Drever in the Rose Garden. This, however,
was not the case. The woman incapable of seeing through
the machinations of two men in the mental caliber of
Sir Thomas Blunt and mister mc keechorn, has yet to
be borne. For some considerable time, Molly had been alive
(12:50):
to the well meant plottings of that worthy pair, and
had derived little pleasure from the fact. It may be
that woman loves to be pursued, but she does not
love to be pursued by a crowd. Mister mc keechorn
cleared his throat and began again, You shouldn't decide a
question like that too hastily, my dear. I didn't not
(13:14):
too hastily for Lord Dreaver at any rate, Poor dear,
it was in your power, said mister mc keecorn, portentously,
to make a man happy. I did, said Molly bitterly.
You should have seen his face light up. He could
hardly believe it was true for a moment, and then
(13:36):
it came home to him, and I thought he would
have fallen on my neck. He did his very best
to look heart broken out of politeness, but it was
no good. He whistled most of the way back to
the house, all flat, but very cheerfully. My dear, what
do you mean? Molly had made the discovery earlier in
(13:57):
their conversation that her father had at moods whose existence
she had not expected. It was his turn now to
make a similar discovery regarding herself. I mean nothing, father,
she said, I'm just telling you what happened. He came
to me looking like a dog that's going to be washed. Why.
(14:18):
Of course he was nervous, my dear. Of course he
couldn't know that I was going to refuse him. She
was breathing quickly. He started to speak, but she went
on looking straight before her. Her face was very white
in the moonlight. He took me into the rose garden.
(14:39):
Was that Sir Thomas's idea? There couldn't have been a
better setting. I'm sure the roses looked lovely presently. I
heard him gulp, and I was so sorry for him.
I would have refused him then and put him out
of his misery. Only I couldn't very well till he
had proposed, could I? So I turned my back and
(15:02):
sniffed at a rose, and then he shut his eyes.
I couldn't see him, but I know he shut his
eyes and began to say his lesson. Molly, she laughed hysterically.
He did. He said his lesson. He gabbled it when
he had got as far as well, don't you know
(15:23):
what I mean? Is that's what I wanted to say,
you know. I turned round and soothed them. I said
I didn't love him. He said no, no, of course not.
I said he had paid me a great compliment. He
said not at all, looking very anxious, poor darling, as
if even then he was afraid of what might come next.
(15:45):
But I reassured him, and he cheered up, and we
walked back to the house together as happy as could be.
The Kakirn put his hand round her shoulders. She winced,
but let it stay. He attempted gruff conciliation. My dear,
you've been imagining things. Of course, he isn't happy. Why
(16:07):
I saw the young fellow recollecting that the last time
he had seen the young fellow, shortly after dinner, the
young fellow had been occupied in juggling, with every appearance
of mental peace, two billiard balls and a box of matches.
He broke off abruptly. Molly looked at him. Father, my dear,
(16:30):
why do you want me to marry Lord Driver? He
met the attack stoutly. I think he's a fine young fellow,
he said, avoiding her eyes. He's quite nice, said Molly quietly.
Mc hechurn had been trying not to say it. He
did not wish to say it. If it could have
(16:53):
been hinted at, he would have done it. But he
was not good at hinting. A lifetime passed in surroundings
where the subtlest hint is. A drive in the ribs
with a truncheon does not leave a man adept at
the art. He had to be blunt or silent. He's
the Earl of Dreever, My dear, he rushed on, desperately,
(17:17):
anxious to cover the nakedness of the statement in a
comfortable garment of words. Why you see, you're young, Molly.
It's only natural you shouldn't look on these things sensibly.
You expect too much of a man. You expect this
fellow to be like the heroes of the novels you read.
When you've lived a little longer, my dear, you'll see
(17:39):
that there's nothing in it. It isn't the hero of
the novel you want to marry. It's the man who
make you a good husband. This remark struck mister mc
acharness so pithy and profound that he repeated it. He
went on. Mollie was sitting quite still, looking into the shrubbery.
(18:00):
He assumed she was listening. But whether she was or not,
he must go on talking. The situation was difficult. Silence
would make it more difficult. Now, look at Lord Dreever,
he said. There's a young man with one of the
oldest titles in England. He could go anywhere and do
(18:20):
what he liked, and be excused for whatever he did
because of his name. But he doesn't he's got the
right stuff in him. He doesn't go racketing around. His
uncle doesn't allow him enough pocket money, said Molly with
a jarring little laugh. Perhaps that's why there was a pause,
(18:42):
but Keechern required a few moments in which to marshal
his arguments. Once more. He had been thrown out of
his stride. Molly turned to him. The hardness had gone
from her face. She looked up at him wistfully. Father, dear, listen,
she said, We always used to understand each other so well.
(19:03):
He patted her shoulder affectionately. You can't mean what you say,
you know. I don't love Lord Dreever. You know he's
only a boy. Don't you want me to marry a man?
I love this old place, But surely you can't think
that it can really matter in a thing like this.
(19:24):
You don't really mean that about the hero of the novel.
I'm not stupid like that. I only once. Oh, I
can't put it into words, but don't you see Her
eyes were fixed appealingly on him. It only needed a
word from him, perhaps not even a word, to close
(19:45):
the gulf that had opened between them. He missed the chance.
He had had time to think and his arguments were
ready again. With stolid, good humor, he marched along the
line he had mapped out. He kindly and shrewd and practical,
and the gulf gaped wider with every word. You mustn't
(20:07):
be rash, my dear. You mustn't act without thinking in
these things. Lord Dreaver is only a boy, as you say,
but he will grow. You say you don't love him, nonsense,
You like him. You would go on liking him more
and more. And why because you could make what you
(20:28):
pleased of him. You've got character, my dear. With a
girl like you to look after him, he would go
a long way, a very long way. It's all there.
It only wants bringing out. And think of it, Molly,
Countess of Dreever. There's hardly a better title in England.
It would make me very happy, my dear. It's been
(20:52):
my one hope all these years to see you in
the place where you ought to be, And now the
chance has come, Molly, dear, don't throw it away. She
leaned back with closed eyes. A wave of exhaustion had
swept over her. She listened in a dull dream. She
(21:13):
felt beaten. They were too strong for her. There were
too many of them. What did it matter? Why not
give in and end it all and win peace? That
was all she wanted? Peace? Now, what did it all matter?
Very well, father, she said listlessly. Mc keechorn stopped short.
(21:37):
You'll do it, dear, he cried, you will very well. Father.
He stooped and kissed her, My own, dear little girl,
he said. She got up. I'm rather tired, father, She said,
I think i'll go in. Two minutes later, mister mc
keechorn was in Sir Thomas Blunt's study. Five minutes utes later,
(22:00):
Sir Thomas pressed the bell. Saunders appeared tell his lordship,
said Sir Thomas that I wish to see him in
a moment. He is in the billiard room. I think
chapter seventeen. Jimmy remember something. The game between Hargate and
(22:22):
Lord Dreaver was still in progress when Jimmy returned to
the billiard room. A glance at the board showed that
the score was seventy sixty nine in favor of Spot.
Good game, said Jimmy, Whose spot I am? Said? His
lordship missing an easy cannon for some reason. He appeared
in high spirits. Hargate's been going great guns I was
(22:47):
eleven ahead a moment ago, but he made a break
of twelve. Lord Dreaver belonged to the class of billiard players,
to whom a double figure break is a thing to
be noted and greeted with respect. Fluky muttered the silent
hargate deprecatingly. This was a long speech for him. Since
(23:07):
their meeting at Paddington Station, Jimmy had seldom heard him
utter anything beyond a monosyllable. Not a bit of it,
dear old Son, said Lord Dreaver, handsomely, you're coming on
like a two year old. I shan't be able to
give you twenty in a hundred much longer. He went
to a side table and mixed himself a whiskey and soda,
(23:28):
singing a brief extract from musical comedy as he did so.
There could be no shadow of doubt that he was
finding life good. For the past few days, and particularly
that afternoon, he had been rather noticeably ill at ease.
Jimmy had seen him hanging about the terrace at half
past five and had thought that he looked like a
(23:49):
mute at a funeral. But now only a few hours
later he was beaming on the world and chirping like
a bird. The game moved jerkily along. Jimmy took a
seat and watched the score mounted slowly. Lord Dreaver was bad,
but Hargate was worse. At length in the eighties, his
(24:10):
Lordship struck a brilliant vein. When he had finished his break,
his score was ninety five. Hargate, who had profited by
a series of misses on his opponent's part, had reached
ninety six. This is shortening my life, said Jimmy, leaning forward.
The balls had been left in an ideal position. Even
(24:32):
Hargate could not fail to make a cannon. He made
it a close finish to even the worst game is exciting.
Jimmy leaned still further forward to watch the next stroke.
It looked as if Hargate would have to wait for
his victory. A good player could have made a cannon
as the balls lay, but not Hargate. They were almost
(24:54):
in a straight line, with White in the center. Hargate
swore under his breath there was nothing to be done.
He struck carelessly at white. White, rolled against red, seemed
to hang for a moment, and shot straight back against
the spot. The game was over. Great Scott. What a fluke,
(25:15):
cried the silent one, becoming quite garrulous at the miracle.
A quiet grin spread itself slowly across Jimmy's face. He
had remembered what he had been trying to remember for
over a week. At this moment, the door opened and
Saunders appeared. Sir Thomas would like to see your lordship
in his study. He said, eh, what does he want?
(25:39):
Sir Thomas did not confide in me your lordship? Eh? What? Oh? No,
well see you later, you men. He rested his cue
against the table and put on his coat. Jimmy followed
him out of the door, which he shut behind him
one second driaver he said, Eh, hello, what's up? Any
(26:01):
money on that game, asked Jimmy. Why, yes, by jove,
now you mention it there was an even fiver, and
erm by the way, old man, the fact is just
for the moment, I'm frightfully. You haven't such a thing
as a fiver anywhere about, have you? The fact is,
my dear fellow. Of course I'll square up with him now,
(26:24):
shall I? Fearfully obliged? If you would, thanks, old man,
pay it tomorrow. No hurry, said Jimmy, plenty more in
the old oak chest. He went back to the room.
Hargate was practicing cannons. He was on the point of
making a stroke when Jimmy opened the door. Care for
(26:44):
a game, asked Hargate. Not just at the present, said Jimmy.
Hargate attempted his cannon and failed badly. Jimmy smiled. Not
such a good shot as the last, he said, No
fine shot that other fluke. I wonder. Jimmy lighted a cigarette.
(27:07):
Do you know New York at all? He asked? Been
there ever been in the Stroller's Club. Hargate turned his back,
but Jimmy had seen his face and was satisfied. Don't
know it, said Hargate. Great plays, said Jimmy, Mostly actors
and writers and so on. The only drawback is that
(27:29):
some of them pick up queer friends. Hargate did not reply.
He did not seem interested. Yes, went on Jimmy. For instance,
a pal of mine, an actor named Mifflin, introduced a
man a year ago as a member's guest for a fortnight.
And this man rooked the fellows of I don't know
how much at Billiard's the old game, you know, nursing
(27:53):
his man right up to the end, and then finishing
with a burst. Of course, when that happens once or twice,
it may be an accident. But when a man who
poses as a novice always manages by a really brilliant shot.
Hargate turned round. They fired this fellow out, said Jimmy,
(28:14):
look here, yes, what do you mean? It's a dull yarn?
Said Jimmy apologetically. I've been boring you. By the way,
Dreaver asked me to square up with you for that game,
in case he shouldn't be back. Here you are, he
held out an empty hand. Got it. What are you
(28:37):
going to do? Demanded Hargate. What am I going to do?
Queried Jimmy, You know what I mean? If you'll keep
your mouth shut and stand in it's halves, is that
what you're after? Jimmy was delighted. He knew that, by rights,
the proposal should have brought him from his seat with
stern set face to wreak vengeance for the insult, But
(29:01):
on such occasions he was apt to ignore the conventions.
His impulse when he met a man whose code of
behavior was not the ordinary code was to chat with
him and extract his point of view. He felt as
little animous against Hargate as he had felt against Spike
on the occasion of their first meeting. Do you make
(29:22):
much of this sort of game, he asked. Hargate was
relieved this was business like Potts, He said, with some enthusiasm.
Pots I tell you if you'll stand in bit risky,
isn't it not a bit of it? An occasional accident?
(29:42):
I suppose you'd call me one. Hargate grinned. It must
be pretty tough work, said Jimmy. You must have to
use a tremendous lot of self restraint. Hargate sighed, that's
the worst of it. He admitted. The have to seem
a mug at the game. I've been patronized sometimes by
(30:04):
young fools who thought they were teaching me until I
nearly forgot myself and showed them what real billiards was.
There's always some drawback to the learned professions, said Jimmy.
But there's a heap to make up for it in
this one, said Hargate. Well, look, here, is it a
deal you'll stand in? Jimmy shook his head. I guess not,
(30:29):
he said. It's good of you, but commercial speculation never
was in my line. I'm afraid you must count me
out of this. What you're going to tell? No, said Jimmy.
I'm not I'm not a vigilance committee. I won't tell
a soul. Why then, began Hargate relieved a less of course.
(30:54):
Jimmy went on, you play billiards again while you're here.
Hargate stared, But damn it, man, if I don't, what's
the good look here? What am I to do? If
they asked me to play? Give your wrist as an
excuse my wrist? Yes, you sprained it tomorrow after breakfast.
(31:17):
It was bad luck. I wonder how you came to
do it. You didn't sprain it much, just enough to
stop you playing billiards, Hargate reflected. Understand, said Jimmy. Oh
very well, said Hargate, sullenly. But he burst out. If
I ever get a chance to get even with you,
(31:39):
you won't, said Jimmy. Dismiss the rosy dream get even.
You don't know me. There's not a flaw in my armor.
I'm a sort of modern addition of the Stainless Night.
Tennyson drew Galahad from me. I moved through life with
almost a sickening absence of sin. But hush, we are observed.
(32:02):
At least we shall be in another minute. Somebody's coming
down the passage. You do understand, don't you? Sprained wrist
is the watchword. The handle turned. It was Lord Dreaver,
back again from his interview. Hello, Dreaver, said, Jimmy, we've
missed you. Hargate has been doing his best to amuse
(32:23):
me with acrobatic tricks. But you're too reckless, Hargate, old man,
mark my words, one of these days you'll be spraining
your wrist. You should be careful. What going? Good night,
pleasant fellow, Hargate. He added, as the footsteps retreated down
the passage. Well, my lad, what's the matter with you?
(32:45):
You look depressed? Lord Dreaver flung himself to the lounge
and groaned hollowly. Damn, damn, damn. He observed, his glassy
eye met Jimmy's and wandered away again. What on earth's
the matter? Demanded Jimmy. You go out of here carolling
(33:06):
like a songbird, and you come back moaning like a
lost soul. What's happened? Give me a brandy and soda pit,
old man, there's a good chap. I'm in a fearful hole.
Why what's the matter? I'm engaged, groaned his lordship. Engaged.
I wish you'd explain what on earth's wrong with you?
(33:30):
Don't you want to be engaged? What's your he broke
off as a sudden, awful suspicion dawned upon him. Who
is she? He cried? He gripped the stricken peer's shoulder
and shook it savagely. Unfortunately he selected the precise moment
when the latter was in the act of calming his
quivering nerve centers with a gulp of brandy and soda,
(33:53):
and for the space of some two minutes it seemed
as if the engagement would be broken off by the
premature extinction of the d line. A long and painful
fit of coughing, however, ended with his lordship still alive
and on the road to recovery. He eyed jimmy reproachfully,
but Jimmy was in no mood for apologies. Who is she?
(34:16):
He kept demanding? What's her name? Might have killed me,
grumbled the convalescent. Who is she? What? Why? Miss mc keeckurn.
Jimmy had known what the answer would be, but it
was scarcely less of a shock for that reason, Miss
mc keeckurn, he echoed. Lord Dreaver nodded a somber nod.
(34:41):
You're engaged to her another somber nod. I don't believe it,
said Jimmy. I wish I didn't, said his lordship wistfully,
ignoring the slight rudeness of the remark. But worse luck,
it's true. For the first time since the disclos closure
of the name, Jimmy's attention was directed to the remarkable
(35:03):
demeanor of his successful rival. You don't seem over pleased,
he said, pleased have a fiver each way on pleased? No,
I'm not exactly leaping with joy? Then, what the devil
is it all about? What do you mean? What's the idea?
If you don't want to marry miss mc echorn, why
(35:26):
did you propose to her? Lord Dreaver closed his eyes.
Dear old boy, don't it's my uncle, Your uncle. Didn't
I explain it all to you about you wanting me
to marry You know I told you the whole thing.
Jimmy stared in silence. Do you mean to say, he said, slowly?
(35:51):
He stopped. It was a profanation to put the thing
into words, What old man, Jimmy gulped. Do you mean
to say you want to marry miss mc keechern simply
because she has money? He said. It was not the
first time that he had heard of a case of
a British peer marrying for such a reason, but it
(36:12):
was the first time that the thing had filled him
with horror. In some circumstances, things come home more forcibly
to us. It's not me, old man, murmured his lordship,
it's my uncle, your uncle. Good God. Jimmy clenched his
hands despairingly. Do you mean to say that you let
(36:34):
your uncle order you about in a thing like this?
Do you mean to say you're such a such a
such a gelatine backboneless worm, old man, I say, protested
his lordship. Wounded, I'd call you a wretched knock need skunk.
Only I don't want to be fulsome I hate flattering
(36:55):
a man to his face. Lord Dreever, deeply pained, half
rose from his seat. Don't get up, urged Jimmy smoothly.
I couldn't trust myself. His lordship subsided hastily. He was
feeling alarmed. He had never seen this side of Jimmy's character.
(37:16):
At first, he had been merely aggrieved and disappointed. He
had expected sympathy. Now the matter had become more serious.
Jimmy was pacing the room like a young and hungry
tiger at present. It was true there was a billiard
table between them, but his lordship felt that he could
have done with good stout bars. He nestled in his
(37:40):
seat with the earnest concentration of a limpet on a rock.
It would be deuce, a bad form, of course, for
Jimmy to assault his host. But could Jimmy be trusted
to remember the niceties of etiquette? Why the devil she
accepted you? I can't think, said Jimmy half to himself,
stopping suddenly and glaring across the table. Lord Dreaver felt relieved.
(38:06):
This was not polite, perhaps, but at least it was
not violent. That's what beats me, too, old man, he said,
between you and me, it's jolly rum business this afternoon.
What about this afternoon? Why she wouldn't have me at
any price? You asked her this afternoon? Yes, and it
(38:31):
was all right? Then she refused me like a bird.
Wouldn't hear of it came damn near laughing in my face.
Then to night, he went on, his voice squeaky at
the thought of his wrongs. My uncle sends for me
and says she's changed her mind and is waiting for
(38:52):
me in the morning room. I go there, and she
tells me in about three words that she's been thinking
it over and that the whole fearful thing is on again.
I call it jolly rough on a chap. I felt
such a frightful ass, you know, I didn't know what
to do, whether to kiss her, I mean, Jimmy snorted violently. Eh,
(39:15):
said his lordship blankly. Go on, said Jimmy between his teeth.
I felt a fearful fool. You know, I just said, right,
ho something dash it? If I know what I did
say and legged it. It's a jolly rum business, the
whole thing. It isn't as if she wanted me. I
(39:36):
could see that with half an eye. She doesn't care
hang for me. It's my belief, old man, he said, solemnly,
that she's been badgered into it. I believe my uncle's
been at her. Jimmy laughed shortly. My dear man, you
seem to think your uncle's persuasive influence is universal. I
(39:57):
guess it's confined to you. Well, anyhow, I believe that's
what's happened. What do you say? Why say anything? There
doesn't seem to be much need. He poured some brandy
into a glass and added a little soda. You take
it pretty stiff, observed his lordship with a touch of envy.
(40:21):
On occasion, said Jimmy emptying the glass Chapter eighteen, The
lachin Var Method. As Jimmy sat smoking a last cigarette
in his bedroom before going to bed that night, Spike
Mullins came in. Jimmy had been thinking things over. He
(40:41):
was one of those men who are at their best
in a losing game. Imminent disaster always had the effect
of keying him up and putting an edge on his mind.
The news he had heard that night had left him
with undiminished determination, but conscious that a change of method
would be needed. He mustake all on a single throw. Now,
(41:02):
Young Lochinvar, rather than Romeo, must be his model. He
declined to believe himself incapable of getting anything that he
wanted as badly as he wanted Molly. He also declined
to believe that she was really attached to Lord Dreever.
He suspected the hand of mc keechern in the affair,
though the suspicion did not clear up the mystery by
(41:23):
any means. Molly was a girl of character, not a
feminine counterpart of his lordship, content meekly to do what
she was told in a matter of this kind. The
whole thing puzzled him well, Spike, he said, he was
not too pleased at the interruption. He was thinking, and
he wanted to be alone. Something appeared to have disturbed Spike.
(41:48):
His bearing was excited. Say, Boss, guess what you know?
That guide to come this afternoon? The guy from the
village that came? What old man mckekan Gaylor said, Jimmy,
what about him? There had been an addition to the
guests at the castle that afternoon. Mister mc keckorn, walking
in the village had happened upon an old New York
(42:11):
acquaintance of his, who touring England, had reached driver and
was anxious to see the historic castle. Mister mc keeckron
had brought him thither, introduced him to Sir Thomas, and
now mister Samuel Gaylor was occupying a room on the
same floor as Jimmy's. He had appeared at dinner that night,
a short, wooden faced man with no more conversation than Hargate.
(42:35):
Jimmy had paid little attention to the newcomer. What about him,
he said? He's a slut, boss A what a slot?
A detective, that's right, A fly cop. What makes you
think that? Tink? Why? I can tell them by their
(42:56):
eyes and their feet and the whole of them. I
could pick out a I come from a bunch of
a thousand. He's sure enough slewed, all right, all right?
I seen him rubber in at you's boss, at me?
Why at me? Why? Of course? I see? Now our
friend mcckechern has got him in to spy on us.
(43:18):
That's right, Boss, of course you may be mistaken, Not me, boss,
and say he ain't the only one. What more detectives?
They'll have to put up house full boards at this rate.
Who's the other? A mug? What's down in the soyvants hall?
(43:39):
I wasn't so sure of him at foist, but now
I'm onto his curves. He's a sleut, all right. He's
valley to Sir Thomas, This second mugg is but he
ain't no valley he's come to see No one don't
get busy with the jewels? Say what do you stink
of them? Jewels? Boss, finest I ever saw? Yes, that's right,
(44:03):
a hundred thousand plunks. They set him back, dared the limit,
ain't they say? Won't youse really, Spike, I'm surprised at you.
Do you know you're getting a regular mephistophelely? Spike? Suppose
I hadn't an iron will what would happen? You really
must select your subjects of conversation more carefully, your bad
(44:27):
company for the likes of me. Spike shuffled despondently, but
Boss Jimmy shook his head. It can't be done, my lad.
But it can, Boss protested Spike. It's dead easy. I've
been up to the room and I seen the box
with the jewels is kept in. Why it's the softest ever.
(44:50):
We could get them as easy as pulling the plug
out of a bottle. Oh, I say, there's never been
such a peach of a place for getting hold of
the stuff as this house. That's right, Boss, Why look
what I got this afternoon, just snooping around and not
really trying to get busy at all. It was just
lying about. He plunged his hand into his pocket and
(45:12):
drew it out again. As he unclosed his fingers, Jimmy
caught the gleam of precious stones. What the he gasped.
Spike was looking at his treasure trove with an air
of affectionate proprietorship. Where on earth did you get those,
asked Jimmy out of one of the rooms. They belonged to,
(45:34):
one of the loydies. It was the easiest old thing ever, Boss,
I just went in when there was nobody around, and
there they was on the toybo I never budded into
anything so soft, Spike. Yes, Boss, do you remember the
room you took them from? Sure? It was to foist
on the Then listen to me for a moment, my
(45:56):
bright boy, when we're at breakfast tomorrow. You want to
go to that room and put those things back, all
of them, mind you, just where you found them. Do
you understand Spike's jaw had fallen? Put them back, Boss,
He faltered, every single one of them, Boss, said Spike, plaintively.
(46:20):
Remember every single one of them, just where it belongs.
See very well, Boss. The dejection in his voice would
have moved the sterness to pity. Gloom had enveloped Spike's spirit.
The sunlight had gone out of his life. It had
also gone out of the lives of a good many
(46:41):
other people at the castle. This was mainly due to
the growing shadow of the day of the theatricals. For
pure discomfort. There are few things in the world that
can compete with the final rehearsals of an amateur theatrical
performance at a country house. Every day the atmosphere becomes
more heavily charged with restlessness and depression. The producer of
(47:04):
the piece, especially if he be also the author of it,
develops a sort of intermittent insanity. He plucks at his
mustache if he has one, at his hair if he
has not. He mutters to himself. He gives vent to
occasional despairing cries. The soothing suavity that marked his demeanor
(47:25):
in the earlier rehearsals disappears. He no longer says, with
a winning smile, splendid, old man, splendid couldn't be better.
But I think we'll take that over just once more,
if you don't mind. Instead, he rolls his eyes and
snaps out once more, please, this'll never do at this rate,
(47:47):
we might just as well cut out the show altogether.
What's that? No, it won't be all right on the night. Now,
then once more, and do pull yourself together this time.
After this, the scene is sulkily resumed, and conversation when
the parties concerned meet subsequently is cold and strained. Matters
(48:09):
had reached this stage at the Castle. Everybody was thoroughly
tired of the piece, and but for the thought of
the disappointment which presumably would rack the neighboring nobility and
gentry if it were not to be produced, would resign
their places without a twinge of regret. People who had
schemed to get the best and longest parts were wishing
(48:30):
now that they had been content with first Footmen or
Giles a villager. I'll never run an amateur show again
as long as I live, confided. Charteris to Jimmy, almost tearfully.
It's not good enough. Most of them aren't word perfect yet.
It'll be all right. Oh don't say it'll be all
(48:53):
right on the night. I wasn't going to, said Jimmy.
I was going to say it'll be all right after
the night. People will soon forget how badly the thing went.
You're a nice, comforting sort of man, aren't you, said
charteris why worry, said Jimmy. If you go on like this,
(49:15):
it'll be Westminster Abbey for you in your prime. You'll
be getting brain fever. Jimmy himself was one of the
few who were feeling reasonably cheerful. He was deriving a
keen amusement at present from the maneuvers of mister Samuel
Gaylor of New York. This lynx eyed man, having been
instructed by mister mc keechrn to watch Jimmy, was doing
(49:39):
so with a thoroughness that would have roused the suspicions
of a babe. If Jimmy went to the billiard room
after dinner, mister Gaylor was there to keep him company.
If during the course of the day he had occasion
to fetch a handkerchief or a cigarette case from his room,
he was sure on emerging to stumble upon mister Gaylor
(49:59):
in the corridor the employees of Dodson's Private Inquiry Agency
believed in earning their salaries. Occasionally, after these encounters, Jimmy
would come upon Sir Thomas Blunt's valet, the other man
in whom Spike's trained eye had discerned the distinguishing marks
of the sleuth. He was usually somewhere round the corner
(50:20):
at these moments, and when collided with, apologized with great politeness.
Jimmy decided that he must have come under suspicion in
this case vicariously through Spike. Spike in the servants hall
would of course stand out conspicuously enough to catch the
eye of a detective on the lookout for sin among
(50:42):
the servants, and he himself, as Spike's employer, had been
marked down as a possible confederate. It tickled him to
think that both these giant brains should be so greatly exercised.
On his account, he had been watching Molly closely during
these days. So far no announcement of the engagement had
(51:04):
been made. It struck him that possibly it was being
reserved for public mention of the night of the theatricals.
The whole county would be at the castle. Then there
could be no more fitting moment. He sounded Lord Reaver,
and the latter said moodily that he was probably right.
(51:25):
There's going to be a dance of sorts after the show,
he said, and it'll be done then I suppose no
getting out of it. After that, it'll be all over
the county. Trust my uncle for that. He'll get on
a table and shout it shouldn't wonder, and it'll be
in the morning post next day, and Katie'll see it.
(51:46):
Only two days more, Oh, Lord Jimmy deduced that Katy
was the savoy girl concerning whom his lordship had vouchsafed
no particular save that she was a ripper, and the
penny only two days. Like the Battle of Waterloo, it
was going to be a close run affair. More than ever.
(52:09):
Now he realized how much Molly meant to him, and
there were moments when it seemed to him that she
too had begun to understand. That night on the terrace
seemed somehow to have changed their relationship. He thought he
had got closer to her. They were in touch before.
She had been frank, cheerful, unembarrassed. Now he noticed a
(52:32):
constraint in her manner, a curious shyness. There was a
barrier between them, but it was not the old barrier.
He had ceased to be one of a crowd. But
it was a race against time. The first day slipped
by a blank and the second till now it was
but a matter of hours the last afternoon had come.
(52:56):
Not even mister Samuel Gaylor of Dodson's Private in Quiry
Agency could have kept a more unflagging watch than did
Jimmy during those hours. There was no rehearsal that afternoon,
and the members of the company, in various stages of
nervous collapse, strayed distractedly about the grounds. First one then
(53:17):
another would seize upon Molly, while Jimmy, watching from afar,
cursed their pertinacity. At last, she wandered off alone, and Jimmy,
quitting his ambush, followed. She walked in the direction of
the lake. It had been a terribly hot, oppressive afternoon.
(53:37):
There was thunder in the air through the trees. The
lake glittered invitingly. She was standing at the water's edge
when Jimmy came up. Her back was turned. She was
rocking with her foot a Canadian canoe that lay alongside
the bank. She started as he spoke. His feet on
the soft turf had made no sound. Can I take
(54:00):
you out on the lake? He said. She did not
answer for a moment. She was plainly confused. I'm sorry,
she said, Ay, I'm waiting for Lord Driaver. Jimmy saw
that she was nervous. There was tension in the air.
She was looking away from him, out across the lake,
(54:22):
and her face was flushed. Won't you, he said, I'm sorry,
she said again. Jimmy looked over his shoulder down the
lower terrace was approaching the long form of his lordship.
He walked with pensive jerkiness, not as one hurrying to
a welcome tryst. As Jimmy looked, he vanished behind the
(54:46):
great clump of laurels that stood on the lowest terrace.
In another minute he would reappear round them, gently, but
with extreme despatch. Jimmy placed a hand on either side
of Molly's waist. The next moment he had swung her
off her feet and lowered her carefully to the cushions
in the bow of the canoe. Then, jumping in himself
(55:08):
with a force that made the boat rock, he loosened
the mooring rope, seized the paddle, and pushed off. End
of Part six
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