Этот неподражаемый Дживс! / The Inimitable Jeeves. Пелам Гренвилл Вудхаус
a chambermaid in hysterics, Aunt Agatha and the hotel manager who looked like a bandit.
“Oh, hallo!” I said. “Hallo-allo-allo!”
Aunt Agatha looked at me. No welcoming smile for Bertram.
“Don’t bother me now, Bertie,” she snapped, looking at me as if I were the bandit myself.
“Something wrong?”
“Yes, yes, yes! I’ve lost my pearls.”
“Pearls? Pearls? Pearls?” I said. “No, really? Where did you see them last?”
“What does it matter where I saw them last? They have been stolen.”
Here the hotel manger stepped into the ring and began to talk rapidly in French. The chambermaid whooped in the corner.
“Are you sure you’ve looked everywhere?” I asked.
“Of course I’ve looked everywhere.”
“Well, you know, I’ve often lost my collars and—”
“Don’t drive me mad, Bertie! I have enough to bear without your imbecilities. Oh, be quiet! Be quiet!” she shouted in the sort of voice used by sergeant-majors. And such was the magnetism of her personality that the manager became silent as if he had run into a wall. The chambermaid continued weep.
“I say,” I said, “I think there’s something with this girl. Isn’t she crying or something?”
“She stole my pearls! I am convinced of it.”
Aunt Agatha turned to the manager.
“I tell you, my good man, for the hundredth time—”
“I say,” I said, “I don’t want to interrupt you and all that sort of thing, but aren’t these the pearls you are looking for?”
I pulled the pearls out of my pocket.
“These look like pearls, eh?”
I don’t know when I’ve been happier. It was one of those occasions about which I shall tell my grandchildren—if I ever have any. Aunt Agatha simply deflated before my eyes. It reminded me of when I once saw some fellows letting the gas out of a balloon.
“Where—where—where—” she gurgled.
“I got them from your friend, Miss Hemmingway.”
Even now she didn’t get it.
“From Miss Hemmingway. Miss Hemmingway. But—but how did they come into her possession?”
“How?” I said. “Because she stole them. Because that’s how she makes her living. I don’t know what her alias is, but her brother, the chap whose collar buttons at the back, is known in criminal circles as Soapy Sid.”
She blinked.
“Miss Hemmingway a thief! I— I—” She stopped and looked feebly at me. “But how did you manage to recover the pearls, Bertie dear?”
“Never mind,” I said severely. “I have my methods. I must say, Aunt Agatha, I think you have been infernally careless. There’s a printed notice in every bedroom in this place saying that there’s a safe in the manager’s office, where jewellery and valuables ought to be placed, and you absolutely disregarded it. And what’s the result? The first thief who came along simply walked into your room and took your pearls. And instead of admitting that it was all your fault, you began to bite this poor man. You have been very, very unjust to this poor man.”
“Yes, yes,” moaned the poor man.
“And this unfortunate girl, what about her? You’ve accused her of stealing the things on absolutely no evidence.”
“Mais oui, mais ouis, c’est trop fort[78]!” shouted the Bandit Chief. And the chambermaid looked up inquiringly, as if the sun was breaking through the clouds.
“I shall recompense her,” said Aunt Agatha feebly.
“If you take my tip you will do it speedily. If I were her I wouldn’t take a penny under twenty pounds. But what surprised me is the way you’ve unjustly abused this poor man here and tried to give his hotel a bad name!”
“Yes, by damn! It’s too bad!” cried the whiskered marvel. “You careless old woman! You give my hotel a bad name! Tomorrow you will leave my hotel!”
And presently having said this, he withdrew, taking the chambermaid with him, the latter with a ten pound note. The manager got his ten as well.
I turned to Aunt Agatha.
“I don’t want continue the conversation, Aunt Agatha,” I said coldly, “but I should just like to point out before I go that the girl who stole your pearls is the girl you’ve been forcing me to marry ever since I got here. Good heavens! A good wife, eh? Do you realize that if I had children they would steal my watch while they were sitting on my knees? I’m not complaining, but I must say that another time you might be more careful choosing the girls for me to marry.”
I gave her one look, turned on my heel and left the room.
“Ten o’clock, a clear night, and all’s well, Jeeves,’ I said, coming back into the good old suite.
“I am gratified to hear it, sir.’
“If twenty pounds would be any use to you, Jeeves—”
“I am much obliged, sir.’
There was a pause. And then—well, I did it. I took the cummerbund and handed it over.
“Do you wish me to press this, sir?”
I looked at the cummerbund. It had been very dear to me.
“No,” I said, “take it away; give it to the poor—I shall never wear it again.”
“Thank you very much, sir,” said Jeeves.
5
The Pride of the Woosters is Wounded
If there’s one thing I like, it’s a quiet life. I’m not one of those fellows who feel restless and depressed if things aren’t happening to them all the time. Give me regular meals, a good show with decent music now and then, and one or two friends to talk to, and I ask no more.
I’d returned from Roville with a sort of feeling that from now on nothing could upset me. Aunt Agatha, I imagined, would require at least a year to recover from the Hemmingway affair: and apart from Aunt Agatha there isn’t anybody who really annoys me. It seemed to me that the skies were blue, so to speak, and no clouds in sight.
But … Well, look here, what happened was this, and I ask you if it wasn’t enough to rattle anybody.
Once a year Jeeves takes a couple of weeks’ vacation and goes to the sea or somewhere to restore his forces. It’s pretty bad for me, of course, while he’s away. But nothing to do; and he usually manages to find a decent fellow to look after me in his absence.
Well, the time had come again, and Jeeves was in the kitchen giving a new servant few tips about his duties. I was looking for a stamp or something, and I wanted to ask him for it. The silly ass had left the kitchen door open, and I heard his voice.
“You will find Mr Wooster,” he was saying to the new servant, “an exceedingly pleasant and amiable young gentleman, but not intelligent. By no means intelligent. Mentally he is negligible—quite negligible.”
Well, I mean to say, what!
I called for my hat and stick and went out. But I have good memory, if you know what I mean. We Woosters do not forget anything. At least, we do—appointments, and people’s birthdays, and letters to post, and all that—but not an absolute insult like the above.
I dropped in at the oyster-bar at Buck’s[79]. I needed something strong at the moment, because I was on my way to lunch with Aunt Agatha. A frightful
Mais oui, mais ouis, c’est trop fort! – О да, о да, это чересчур! (франц.)
oyster-bar at Buck's – устричный бар у Бака