It was he who suggested that
the wooden bar which ran across the window was unnecessary, but it was
Mike who wrenched it from its place. Similarly, it was Mike who
abstracted the key from the door of the next study, though the idea
was Psmith's.
"Privacy," said Psmith, as he watched Mike light the gas ring, "is what
we chiefly need in this age of publicity. If you leave a study door
unlocked in these strenuous times, the first thing you know is, somebody
comes right in, sits down, and begins to talk about himself. I think
with a little care we ought to be able to make this room quite decently
comfortable. That putrid calendar must come down, though. Do you think
you could make a long arm, and haul it off the parent tintack? Thanks.
We make progress. We make progress."
"We shall jolly well make it out of the window," said Mike, spooning up
tea from a paperbag with a postcard, "if a sort of young Hackenschmidt
turns up and claims the study. What are you going to do about it?"
"Don't let us worry about it. I have a presentiment that he will be an
insignificant-looking little weed. How are you getting on with the
evening meal?"
"Just ready. What would you give to be at Eton now? I'd give something
to be at Wrykyn.
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