“Jeeves,” said Bertie Wooster, “knows the answer to any question.”
“Really?” St-John Hollingshead inquired.
”Really,” Bertie asserted.
“Let us,” St-John said, “test the validity of this proposition. I shall hide. You shall interrogate Jeeves regarding my whereabouts.” With this, Hollingshead departed.
Stairs creaked overhead presently. “Blighter’s off to the roof,” Bertie thought. “Unwise, what, in this blasted weather.” He called Jeeves in.
“Jeeves,” he began.
“Yes sir,” Jeeves replied.
“I’ve a question …” he continued.
“Yes sir.”
There was an awful, rending scream.
“Good God! What was that!” Bertie exclaimed.
“E flat,” said Jeeves.
There was an awful, wrenching thud.
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