The Jeeves Omnibus - Vol 3 Read Online Free PDF

long story short –’
    Monica did so.
    ‘Save it up for after dinner, my king of raconteurs,’ she said. ‘If there is any dinner,’ she added doubtfully.
    ‘Oh, there’ll be dinner all right,’ said Jill, ‘and you’ll probably find it’ll melt in the mouth. Bill’s got a very good cook.’
    Monica stared.
    ‘A cook? These days? I don’t believe it. You’ll be telling me next he’s got a housemaid.’
    ‘He has. Name of Ellen.’
    ‘Pull yourself together, child. You’re talking wildly. Nobody has a housemaid.’
    ‘Bill has. And a gardener. And a butler. A wonderful butler called Jeeves. And he’s thinking of getting a boy to clean the knives and boots.’
    ‘Good heavens! It sounds like the home life of the Aga Khan.’ Monica frowned thoughtfully. ‘Jeeves?’ she said. ‘Why does that name seem to ring a bell?’
    Rory supplied illumination.
    ‘Bertie Wooster. He has a man named Jeeves. This is probably a brother or an aunt or something.’
    ‘No,’ said Jill. ‘It’s the same man. Bill has him on lend-lease.’
    ‘But how on earth does Bertie get on without him?’
    ‘I believe Mr Wooster’s away somewhere. Anyhow, Jeeves appeared one day and said he was willing to take office, so Bill grabbed him, of course. He’s an absolute treasure. Bill says he’s an “old soul”, whatever that means.’
    Monica was still bewildered.
    ‘But how about the financial end? Does he pay this entourage, or just give them a pleasant smile now and then?’
    ‘Of course he pays them. Lavishly. He flings them purses of gold every Saturday morning.’
    ‘Where does the money come from?’
    ‘He earns it.’
    ‘Don’t be silly. Bill hasn’t earned a penny since he was paid twopence a time for taking his castor oil. How could he possibly earn it?’
    ‘He’s doing some sort of work for the Agricultural Board.’
    ‘You don’t make a fortune out of that.’
    ‘Bill seems to. I suppose he’s so frightfully good at his job that they pay him more than the others. I don’t know what he does, actually. He just goes off in his car. Some kind of inspection, I suppose it is. Checking up on all those questionnaires. He’s not very good at figures, so he always takes Jeeves with him.’
    ‘Well, that’s wonderful,’ said Monica. ‘I was afraid he might have started backing horses again. It used to worry me so much in the old days, the way he would dash from race-course to race-course in a grey topper that he carried sandwiches in.’
    ‘Oh, no, it couldn’t be anything like that. He promised me faithfully he would never bet on a horse again.’
    ‘Very sensible,’ said Rory. ‘I don’t mind a flutter from time to time, of course. At Harrige’s we always run a Sweep on big events, five-bob chances. The brass hats frown on anything larger.’
    Jill moved to the french window.
    ‘Well, I mustn’t stand here talking,’ she said. ‘I’ve got work to do. I came to attend to Bill’s Irish terrier. It’s sick of a fever.’
    ‘Give it a bolus.’
    ‘I’m giving it some new American ointment. It’s got mange. See you later.’
    Jill went off on her errand of mercy, and Rory turned to Monica. His customary stolidity had vanished. He was keen and alert, like Sherlock Holmes on the trail.
    ‘Moke!’
    ‘Hullo?’
    ‘What do you make of it, old girl?’
    ‘Make of what?’
    ‘This sudden affluence of Bill’s. There’s something fishy going on here. If it had just been a matter of a simple butler, one could have understood it. A broker’s man in disguise, one would have said. But how about the housemaid and the cook and the car and, by Jove, the fact that he’s paid his telephone bill.’
    ‘I see what you mean. It’s odd.’
    ‘It’s more than odd. Consider the facts. The last time I was at Rowcester Abbey, Bill was in the normal state of destitution of the upper-class Englishman of today, stealing the cat’s milk and nosing about in the gutters for cigar ends. I come here now, and