The Man with Two Left Feet by P. G. Wodehouse Read Free Book Online

at her. They didn’t want to let her go. She had to come back again and again. When she had finally disappeared I turned to Aunt Julia.
    â€˜Well?’ I said.
    â€˜I like her work. She’s an artist.’
    â€˜We will now, if you don’t mind, step a goodish way uptown.’
    And we took the subway to where Gussie, the human film, was earning his thirty-five per. As luck would have it, we hadn’t been in the place ten minutes when out he came.
    â€˜Exhibit B,’ I said. ‘Gussie.’
    I don’t quite know what I had expected her to do, but I certainly didn’t expect her to sit there without a word. She did not move a muscle, but just stared at Gussie as he drooled on about the moon. I was sorry for the woman, for it must have been a shock to her to see her only son in a mauve frockcoat and a brown top hat, but I thought it best to let her get a stranglehold on the intricacies of the situation as quickly as possible. If I had tried to explain the affair without the aid of illustrations I should have talked all day and left her muddled up as to who was going to marry whom, and why.
    I was astonished at the improvement in dear old Gussie. He had got back his voice and was putting the stuff over well. It reminded me of the night at Oxford when, then but a lad of eighteen, he sang ‘Let’s All Go Down the Strand’ after a bump supper, standing the while up to his knees in the college fountain. He was putting just the same zip into the thing now.
    When he had gone off Aunt Julia sat perfectly still for a long time, and then she turned to me. Her eyes shone queerly.
    â€˜What does this mean, Bertie?’
    She spoke quite quietly, but her voice shook a bit.
    â€˜Gussie went into the business,’ I said, ‘because the girl’s father wouldn’t let him marry her unless he did. If you feel up to it perhaps you wouldn’t mind tottering round to One Hundred and Thirty-third Street and having a chat with him. He’s an old boy with eyebrows, and he’s Exhibit C on my list. When I’ve put you in touch with him I rather fancy my share of the business is concluded, and it’s up to you.’
    The Danbys lived in one of those big apartments uptown which look as if they cost the earth and really cost about half as much as a hall room down in the forties. We were shown into the sitting room, and presently old Danby came in.
    â€˜Good afternoon, Mr. Danby,’ I began.
    I had got as far as that when there was a kind of gasping cry at my elbow.
    â€˜Joe!’ cried Aunt Julia, and staggered against the sofa.
    For a moment old Danby stared at her, and then his mouth fell open and his eyebrows shot up like rockets.
    â€˜Julie!’
    And then they had got hold of each other’s hands and were shaking them till I wondered their arms didn’t come unscrewed.
    I’m not equal to this sort of thing at such short notice. The change in Aunt Julia made me feel quite dizzy. She had shed her
grande-dame
manner completely, and was blushing and smiling. I don’t like to say such things of any aunt of mine, or I would go further and put it on record that she was giggling. And old Danby, who usually looked like a cross between a Roman emperor and Napoleon Bonaparte in a bad temper, was behaving like a small boy.
    â€˜Joe!’
    â€˜Julie!’
    â€˜Dear old Joe! Fancy meeting you again!’
    â€˜Wherever have you come from, Julie?’
    Well, I didn’t know what it was all about, but I felt a bit out of it. I butted in:
    â€˜Aunt Julia wants to have a talk with you, Mr. Danby.’
    â€˜I knew you in a second, Joe!’
    â€˜It’s twenty-five years since I saw you, kid, and you don’t look a day older.’
    â€˜Oh, Joe! I’m an old woman!’
    â€˜What are you doing over here? I suppose’—old Danby’s cheerfulness waned a trifle—‘I suppose your husband is with you?’
    â€˜My