Of course she had not
come back. Why should she?
A voice spoke.
"Jimmy!"
He leaped up again, and looked wildly round. Then he looked up.
Ann was leaning over the gallery rail.
"Jimmy, I've been thinking it over. There's something I want to
ask you. Do you admit that you behaved abominably five years
ago?"
"Yes!" shouted Jimmy.
"And that you've been behaving just as badly ever since?"
"Yes!"
"And that you are really a pretty awful sort of person?"
"Yes!"
"Then it's all right. You deserve it!"
"Deserve it?"
"Deserve to marry a girl like me. I was worried about it, but now
I see that it's the only punishment bad enough for you!" She
raised her arm.
"Here's the dead past, Jimmy! Go and bury it! Good-night!"
A small book fell squashily at Jimmy's feet. He regarded it dully
for a moment. Then, with a wild yell which penetrated even to Mr.
Pett's bedroom and woke that sufferer just as he was dropping off
to sleep for the third time that night he bounded for the gallery
stairs.
At the further end of the gallery a musical laugh sounded, and a
door closed. Ann had gone.
--------------------------------
Transcriber's Notes for edition 11:
I am greatly indebted to the Wodehouse readers from the BLANDINGS
e-mail group who did such detailed research on this text, not only
on simple typos but on the differences between the 1916 Saturday
Evening Post serialization and the US and UK early printings.
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