the same I was exercised about the poor fish, as I am about all my pals,
close or distant, who find themselves treading upon Life's banana skins.
It seemed to me that he was up against it.

I threw my mind back to the last time I had seen him. About two years
ago, it had been. I had looked in at his place while on a motor trip, and
he had put me right off my feed by bringing a couple of green things with
legs to the luncheon table, crooning over them like a young mother and
eventually losing one of them in the salad. That picture, rising before
my eyes, didn't give me much confidence in the unfortunate goof's ability
to woo and win, I must say. Especially if the girl he had earmarked was
one of these tough modern thugs, all lipstick and cool, hard, sardonic
eyes, as she probably was.

"Tell me, Jeeves," I said, wishing to know the worst, "what sort of a
girl is this girl of Gussie's?"

"I have not met the young lady, sir. Mr. Fink-Nottle speaks highly of her
attractions."

"Seemed to like her, did he?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did he mention her name? Perhaps I know her."

"She is a Miss Bassett, sir. Miss Madeline Bassett."

"What?"

"Yes, sir."

I was deeply intrigued.

"Egad, Jeeves! Fancy that. It's a small world, isn't it, what?"

"The young lady is an acquaintance of yours, sir?"

"I know her well. Your news has relieved my mind, Jeeves. It makes the
whole thing begin to seem far more like a practical working proposition."

"Indeed, sir?"

"Absolutely. I confess that until you supplied this information I was
feeling profoundly dubious about poor old Gussie's chances of inducing
any spinster of any parish to join him in the saunter down the aisle. You
will agree with me that he is not everybody's money."

"There may be something in what you say, sir."

"Cleopatra wouldn't have liked him."

"Possibly not, sir."

"And I doubt if he would go any too well with Tallulah Bankhead."

"No, sir."

"But when you tell me that the object of his affections is Miss Bassett,
why, then, Jeeves, hope begins to dawn a bit. He's just the sort of chap
a girl like Madeline Bassett might scoop in with relish."

This Bassett, I must explain, had been a fellow visitor of ours at
Cannes; and as she and Angela had struck up one of those effervescent
friendships which girls do strike up, I had seen quite a bit of her.
Indeed, in my moodier moments it sometimes seemed to me that I could not
move a step without stubbing my t