The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University

4
EVEN INTO THE BLACKEST days there generally creeps
an occasional ray of sunshine, and there are few crises
of human gloom which are not lightened by a bit of
luck. It was so with Mr. Bennett in his hour of travail.
<strong>The</strong>re were lobsters for lunch, and his passion for lobsters
had made him the talk of three New York clubs.
He was feeling a little happier when Billie came in to
see how he was getting on.
“Hullo, father. Had a nice lunch?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Bennett, cheering up a little at the
recollection. “<strong>The</strong>re was nothing wrong with the lunch.”
How little we fallible mortals know! Even as he spoke,
a tiny fragment of lobster shell, which had been working
its way silently into the tip of his tongue, was settling
down under the skin and getting ready to cause
him the most acute mental distress which he had ever
known.
P. G. Wodehouse
113
“<strong>The</strong> lunch,” said Mr. Bennett, “was excellent. Lobsters!”
He licked his lips appreciatively.
“And, talking of lobsters,” he went on, “I suppose
that boy Bream has told you that I have broken off
your engagement?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t seem very upset,” said Mr. Bennett, who
was in the mood for a dramatic scene and felt a little
disappointed.
“Oh, I’ve become a fatalist on the subject of my engagements.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“Well, I mean, they never seem to come to anything.”
Billie gazed wistfully at the counterpane. “Do you know,
father, I’m beginning to think that I’m rather impulsive.
I wish I didn’t do silly things in such a hurry.”
“I don’t see where the hurry comes in as regards that
Mortimer boy. You took ten years to make up your mind.”
“I was not thinking of Bream. Another man.”
“Great Heavens! Are you still imagining yourself in
love with young Hignett?”