Not just the week past, spent less on ‘holiday’ then on domestic overtime as Jeeves had helped his sister rearrange the Jeeves ancestral cottage to accommodate Mabel Biffen and the of Biffen children – her husband being off to serve. [Bertie wasn’t quite sure what the Navy could make of Biffy – but so long as it wasn’t a navigator? Bertie trusted the Lord’s Admiral knew what they were about.] No, the last two months had been a sort of localized separation, since Cousin Angela had been driven to house-guesting via German high explosives. Bertie loved his relation – he truly did – but even excluding the illicit pash re yearning yet masculine hearts – well, the raw scrape of characters and habits re: Bertram and Travers kindred was a sort of high explosive on it’s own. Nitroglycerine, perhaps.
“We could…”
Bertie had no idea what the rest of those words should be. In better times the sentence would have finished with Jeeves packing while Bertie called for tickets. Rail tickets for a Scottish holiday – days split between salmon fishing and golf (their respective hobbies) and nights split not at all. Ferry tickets for a jaunt over the Channel, café society divided between jazz in cellar clubs and concerts in soaring boxes, and again no division between man and man. Cruise tickets for New York, back when the circle of the bright and beautiful glowed like a halo of pleasure from Manhattan society affairs to the bohemian artistry of the Village.
“If only…” Jeeves answered. All the response required.
no subject
“Too long,” Jeeves gasped into Bertram’s collar.
“Too long,” Bertram agreed ferverently.
Not just the week past, spent less on ‘holiday’ then on domestic overtime as Jeeves had helped his sister rearrange the Jeeves ancestral cottage to accommodate Mabel Biffen and the of Biffen children – her husband being off to serve. [Bertie wasn’t quite sure what the Navy could make of Biffy – but so long as it wasn’t a navigator? Bertie trusted the Lord’s Admiral knew what they were about.] No, the last two months had been a sort of localized separation, since Cousin Angela had been driven to house-guesting via German high explosives. Bertie loved his relation – he truly did – but even excluding the illicit pash re yearning yet masculine hearts – well, the raw scrape of characters and habits re: Bertram and Travers kindred was a sort of high explosive on it’s own. Nitroglycerine, perhaps.
“We could…”
Bertie had no idea what the rest of those words should be. In better times the sentence would have finished with Jeeves packing while Bertie called for tickets. Rail tickets for a Scottish holiday – days split between salmon fishing and golf (their respective hobbies) and nights split not at all. Ferry tickets for a jaunt over the Channel, café society divided between jazz in cellar clubs and concerts in soaring boxes, and again no division between man and man. Cruise tickets for New York, back when the circle of the bright and beautiful glowed like a halo of pleasure from Manhattan society affairs to the bohemian artistry of the Village.
“If only…” Jeeves answered. All the response required.