Coming out of the lift I met Bicky bustling in from the street.

"Halloa, Bertie! I missed him. Has he turned up?"

"He's upstairs now, having some tea."

"What does he think of it all?"

"He's absolutely rattled."

"Ripping! I'll be toddling up, then. Toodle-oo, Bertie, old man. See
you later."

"Pip-pip, Bicky, dear boy."

He trotted off, full of merriment and good cheer, and I went off to the
club to sit in the window and watch the traffic coming up one way and
going down the other.

It was latish in the evening when I looked in at the flat to dress for
dinner.

"Where's everybody, Jeeves?" I said, finding no little feet pattering
about the place. "Gone out?"

"His grace desired to see some of the sights of the city, sir. Mr.
Bickersteth is acting as his escort. I fancy their immediate objective
was Grant's Tomb."

"I suppose Mr. Bickersteth is a bit braced at the way things are