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

"Piccadilly Jim"

"She
thinks you have come to settle down."
"So I have. I'm going to settle down like a limpet. I hope I
shall be living in luxury on you twenty years from now. Is this
the room?"
Mr. Pett opened the drawing-room door. A small hairy object
sprang from a basket and stood yapping in the middle of the room.
This was Aida, Mrs. Pett's Pomeranian. Mr. Pett, avoiding the
animal coldly, for he disliked it, ushered Jimmy into the room.
"Here's Jimmy Crocker, Nesta."
Jimmy was aware of a handsome woman of middle age, so like his
step-mother that for an instant his self-possession left him and
he stammered.
"How--how do you do?"
His demeanour made a favourable impression on Mrs. Pett. She took
it for the decent confusion of remorse.
"I was very surprised when your uncle telephoned me," she said.
"I had not the slightest idea that you were coming over. I am
very glad to see you."
"Thank you."
"This is your cousin, Ogden."
Jimmy perceived a fat boy lying on a settee. He had not risen on
Jimmy's entrance, and he did not rise now. He did not even lower
the book he was reading.
"Hello," he said.
Jimmy crossed over to the settee, and looked down on him. He had
got over his momentary embarrassment, and, as usual with him, the
reaction led to a fatal breeziness. He prodded Ogden in his
well-covered ribs, producing a yelp of protest from that
astounded youth.
"So this is Ogden! Well, well, well! You don't grow up, Ogden,
but you do grow out.


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