Psmith opened the first of these.
"This'll do us well," he said.
It was a biggish room, looking out over the school grounds. There were a
couple of deal tables, two empty bookcases, and a looking glass, hung
on a nail.
"Might have been made for us," said Psmith approvingly.
"I suppose it belongs to some rotter."
"Not now."
"You aren't going to collar it!"
"That," said Psmith, looking at himself earnestly in the mirror, and
straightening his tie, "is the exact program. We must stake out our
claims. This is practical socialism."
"But the real owner's bound to turn up some time or other."
"His misfortune, not ours. You can't expect two masterminds like us to
pig it in that room downstairs. There are moments when one wants to be
alone. It is imperative that we have a place to retire to after a
fatiguing day. And now, if you want to be really useful, come and help
me fetch up my box from downstairs. It's got a gas ring and various
things in it."
4
STAKING OUT A CLAIM
Psmith, in the matter of decorating a study and preparing tea in it, was
rather a critic than an executant. He was full of ideas, but he
preferred to allow Mike to carry them out.
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