There had appeared to him something rather fine in his policy of
refusing to identify himself in any way with Sedleigh, a touch of the
stone-walls-do-not-a-prison-make sort of thing. He now saw that his
attitude was to be summed up in the words, "Sha'n't play."
It came upon Mike with painful clearness that he had been making an ass
of himself.
He had come to this conclusion, after much earnest thought, when Psmith
entered the study.
"How's Adair?" asked Mike.
"Sitting up and taking nourishment once more. We have been chatting.
He's not a bad cove."
"He's all right," said Mike.
There was a pause. Psmith straightened his tie.
"Look here," he said, "I seldom interfere in terrestrial strife, but it
seems to me that there's an opening here for a capable peacemaker, not
afraid of work, and willing to give his services in exchange for a
comfortable home. Comrade Adair's rather a stoutish fellow in his way.
I'm not much on the 'Play up for the old school, Jones,' game, but
everyone to his taste. I shouldn't have thought anybody would get
overwhelmingly attached to this abode of wrath, but Comrade Adair seems
to have done it. He's all for giving Sedleigh a much-needed boost-up.
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