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Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville), 1881-1975

"The Clicking of Cuthbert"

Yet it was to me that Ralph came in his hour of need. When I
returned home one evening, I found that my man had brought him in and
laid him on the mat in my sitting-room.
I offered him a chair and a cigar, and he came to the point with
commendable rapidity.
"Leigh," he said, directly he had lighted his cigar, "is too small for
Arthur Jukes and myself."
"Ah, you have been talking it over and decided to move?" I said,
delighted. "I think you are perfectly right. Leigh _is_ over-built.
Men like you and Jukes need a lot of space. Where do you think of
going?"
"I'm not going."
"But I thought you said----"
"What I meant was that the time has come when one of us must leave."
"Oh, only one of you?" It was something, of course, but I confess I was
disappointed, and I think my disappointment must have shown in my
voice; for he looked at me, surprised.
"Surely you wouldn't mind Jukes going?" he said.
"Why, certainly not. He really is going, is he?"
A look of saturnine determination came into Ralph's face.
"He is. He thinks he isn't, but he is.


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