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Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville), 1881-1975

"The Coming of Bill"

"
He eyed her accusingly through his gold-rimmed glasses. She remained
tranquil.
"And what had Clarence to say?"
"A great many things."
"I gather he told you I had refused him."
"If it were only that!"
Ruth rapped the piano sharply.
"Bailey," she said, "wake up. Either get to the point or go or read a
book or do some tatting or talk about something else. You know
perfectly well that I absolutely refuse to endure your impressive
manner. I believe when people ask you the time you look pained and
important and make a mystery of it. What's troubling you? I should have
thought Clarence would have kept quiet about insulting me. But
apparently he has no sense of shame."
Bailey gaped. Bailey was shocked and alarmed.
"Insulting you! What do you mean? Clarence is a gentleman. He is
incapable of insulting a woman."
"Is he? He told me I was a suitable wife for a wretched dwarf with the
miserably inadequate intelligence which nature gave him reduced to
practically a minus quantity by alcohol! At least, he implied it. He
asked me to marry him."
"I have just left him at the club. He is very upset."
"I should imagine so." A soft smile played over Ruth's face. "I spoke
to Clarence. I explained things to him. I lit up Clarence's little mind
like a searchlight."
Bailey rose, tremulous with just wrath.


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