Этот неподражаемый Дживс! / The Inimitable Jeeves

And he rang off. At that moment the gong sounded, and my host came downstairs.

I always look back to that lunch with a sort of regret. It was the best lunch in my life, and I could not appreciate it. Subconsciously, if you know what I mean, I could see it was pretty special, but I was shocked with the ghastly situation in which young Bingo had landed me.

Old Little began:

“My nephew has probably told you that I have been studying your books?”

“Yes. He mentioned it. How—er—how did you like them?”

He gazed reverently at me.

“Mr Wooster, I am not ashamed to say that the tears came into my eyes as I listened to them. It amazes me that a man as young as you can be able to learn human nature so deeply; to write novels so true, so human, so moving, so vital!”

“Oh, it’s nothing special,” I said.

It was terribly hot in the room.

“Do you find the room a little warm?” he asked.

“Oh, no, no, rather not. Just right.”

“Then it’s the pepper. If my cook has a fault—which I am not prepared to admit—it is that she adores pepper. By the way, do you like her cooking?”

I was so relieved that we had changed the subject that I shouted approval.

“I am delighted to hear it, Mr Wooster. I may be prejudiced, but to my mind that woman is a genius.”

“Absolutely!” I said.

“She has been with me seven years, and in all that time I have not known her guilty of a single lapse from the highest standard. Except once, in the winter of 1917, a certain mayonnaise of hers was not soft enough. But there had been several air-raids[39 - air-raids – воздушные налёты] about that time, and no doubt the poor woman was shaken. But nothing is perfect in this world, Mr Wooster. For seven years I have lived in constant apprehension lest some person might lure her. To my certain knowledge she has received offers, lucrative offers, to accept service elsewhere. You can imagine, Mr Wooster, my sorrow when she said that she was going to change her place of employment!”

“Good Lord!”

“Oh, my dear author of A Red, Red Summer Rose! But I am glad to say the worst has not happened. Jane[40 - Jane – Джейн] is not leaving me.”

“Wonderful!”

“Wonderful, indeed. And, speaking of your books, may I say that what has impressed me about them even more than the actual narrative, is your philosophy of life. If there were more men like you, Mr Wooster, London would be a better place.”

This was opposite to my Aunt Agatha’s philosophy of life, she has always told me that it is the presence of guys like me that makes London a plague spot.

“Let me tell you, Mr Wooster, that I appreciate your splendid defiance of the fetishes of a social system. I appreciate it! I remember the words of Lord Bletchmore in Only a Factory Girl, “Be her origin never so humble, a good woman is the equal of the finest lady on earth!’ ”

“Really! Do you think that?”

“I do, Mr Wooster. I am ashamed to say that there was a time when I was like other men, a slave to the idiotic convention which we call Class Distinction. But, since I read your book—”

“You think it’s all right for a guy to marry a girl of what you might describe as the lower classes?”

“Of course I do, Mr Wooster.”

I took a deep breath, and told him the good news.

“Young Bingo—your nephew, you know—wants to marry a waitress,” I said.

“I honour him for it,” said Old Little.

“You don’t object?”

“On the contrary.”

I took another deep breath.

“I hope you won’t think I’m butting in[41 -

– лезть не в свое дело],” I said, “but—er—well, how about it?”

“I fear I do not quite follow you.”

“Well, I mean to say … The money you’re good enough to give him. He was rather hoping that you—because of his marriage—might add some money to his income.”

Old Little shook his head regretfully.

“I fear that can hardly be managed. You see, a man in my position must save every penny. I will gladly continue my nephew’s existing allowance, but beyond that I cannot go. It would not be fair to my wife.”

“What! But you’re not married?”

“Not yet. But I think about it. The lady who for years has cooked so well for me honoured me by accepting my hand this very morning.” A cold gleam of triumph came into his eye. “Now let them try to get her away from me!” he muttered.

“Young Mr Little has been calling you during the afternoon, sir,” said Jeeves that night, when I got home.

“No wonder,” I said. I had sent poor old Bingo a note by messenger-boy shortly after lunch.

“He seemed a little agitated.”

“I don’t wonder, Jeeves,” I said, “I’m afraid I’ve bad news for you. That scheme of yours—reading those books to old Mr Little and all that—has led to nowhere.”

“They did not soften him?”

“They did. That’s the whole trouble. Jeeves, I’m sorry to say that fiancée[42 - fiancée – невеста] of yours—Miss Watson, you know—the cook, you know—well, she’s chosen riches, if you know what I mean.”

“Sir?”

“She’s got engaged to old Mr Little!”

“Indeed, sir?”

“You don’t seem much upset.”