For the moment, let me hear what you wish to say. I
shall, of course, tell nobody, if you do not wish it."
"Well, it was like this, sir," said Psmith, "Jackson happened to tell me
that you and Mr. Downing seemed to think he had painted Mr. Downing's
dog, and there seemed some danger of his being expelled, so I thought it
wouldn't be an unsound scheme if I were to go and say I had done it.
That was the whole thing. Of course, Dunster writing created a certain
amount of confusion."
There was a pause.
"It was a very wrong thing to do, Smith," said the headmaster, at last,
"but.... You are a curious boy, Smith. Good night."
He held out his hand.
"Good night, sir," said Psmith.
"Not a bad old sort," said Psmith meditatively to himself, as he walked
downstairs. "By no means a bad old sort. I must drop in from time to
time and cultivate him."
Mike and Adair were waiting for him outside the front door.
"Well?" said Mike.
"You _are_ the limit," said Adair. "What's he done?"
"Nothing. We had a very pleasant chat, and then I tore myself away."
"Do you mean to say he's not going to do a thing?"
"Not a thing."
"Well, you're a marvel," said Adair.
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