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276 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1948
"'Stanwood, old man,' said Mike in a quivering voice, 'I take back all the things I said about you. Forget that I called you a dish-faced moron.'Having by now read a great deal of Wodehouse, I am hunting down the remaining and thankfully still numerous not-yet-read works. Spring Fever (1948) was up next, and turned out to be a solid bit of fun.
'You didn't.'
'Well, I meant to.'" (148)
The name seemed to grate upon Lord Shortlands's (sic) sensibilities.
"Cosmo Blair!"
"Why do you say 'Cosmo Blair' like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you did."
"I didn't."
"Yes, you did."
"Well, why shouldn't I?" demanded Lord Shortlands, driven out into the open. "He's a pot-bellied perisher."
Clare quivered from head to food.
"Don't call him a pot-bellied perisher!"
"Well, what else can you call him?" asked Lord Shortlands, like Roget trying to collect material for his Thesaurus. "I've studied him closely, and I say he's a pot-bellied perisher."
"He's a very brilliant man," said Clare, and swept from the room, banging the door behind her.
"His last play ran nine months in London," she added, re-opening and re-bangning the door...
"Wy did you go and tell Mr. Cardinal I'd been a burglar once?"
"I didn't"
"Yes, you did, and you know it. How else could he have found out? I wish I'd never mentioned it now. That't the trouble with you chum. You're a babbler. You can't keep from spilling the beans. 'So you used to be a burglar, used you?' says Mr. Cardinal, day before yesterday it was... 'And your name's Robb.' 'What about it?' I says. 'Ha, ha.' he says, laughing a sort of silvery laugh. 'Very suitable name for a burglar,' he says. 'You're the fifty-seventh feller that's told me that.' I says. 'Then you have known fifty-seven brilliantly witty people,' he says. 'I congratulate you.' And he takes a couple of little what-nots off the mantelpiece and locked 'em in a cupboard, as it were ostentatiously. Wounding, that was."...