The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University

“Dropped my pen!” he gurgled again.
“Yes?” said Billie.
“Fountain-pen,” babbled Sam, “with a broad nib.”
“Yes?”
“A broad gold nib,” went on Sam, with the painful
exactitude which comes only from embarrassment or
the early stages of intoxication.
“Really?” said Billie, and Sam blinked and told himself
resolutely that this would not do. He was not appearing
to advantage. It suddenly occurred to him that
his hair was standing on end as the result of his struggle
with Widgery. He smoothed it down hastily, and felt a
trifle more composed. <strong>The</strong> old fighting spirit of the
Marlowes now began to assert itself to some extent.
He must make an effort to appear as little of a fool as
possible in this girl’s eyes. And what eyes they were!
Golly! Like stars! Like two bright planets in ….
However, that was neither here nor there. He pulled
down his waistcoat and became cold and business-like,—
the dry young lawyer.
“Er—how do you do, Miss Bennett?” he said with a
P. G. Wodehouse
129
question in his voice, raising his eyebrows in a professional
way. He modelled this performance on that of
lawyers he had seen on the stage, and wished he had
some snuff to take or something to tap against his front
teeth. “Miss Bennett, I believe?”
<strong>The</strong> effect of the question upon Billie was disastrous.
She had come to this office with beating heart, prepared
to end all misunderstandings, to sob on her soulmate’s
shoulder and generally make everything up; but
at this inane exhibition the fighting spirit of the
Bennetts—which was fully as militant as that of the
Marlowes—became roused. She told herself that she
had been mistaken in supposing that she still loved
this man. She was a proud girl and refused to admit
herself capable of loving any man who looked at her
as if she was something that the cat had brought in.
She drew herself up stiffly.
“Yes,” she replied. “How clever of you to remember
me.”
“I have a good memory.”
“How nice! So have I!”