The Girl on the Boat - Penn State University

“I’m going,” said Billie resolutely. It occurred to her,
as it has occurred to so many women before her, how
helpless men are in a crisis. <strong>The</strong> temporary withdrawal
of Jane Hubbard had had the effect which the removal
of the rudder has on a boat. “It’s the only thing to do. I
shall be back in no time.”
She stepped firmly to the coat-rack, and began to put
on her motoring-cloak. And just then Jane Hubbard
came downstairs, shepherding before her a pale and
glassy-eyed Bream.
“Right under the bed,” she announced cheerfully,
“making a noise like a piece of fluff in order to deceive
burglars.”
Billie cast a scornful look at her fiancé. Absolutely
unjustified, in my opinion, but nevertheless she cast it.
But it had no effect at all. Terror had stunned Bream
Mortimer’s perceptions. His was what the doctors call
a penumbral mental condition.
“Bream,” said Billie, “I want you to come in the car
with me to fetch the police.”
“All right,” said Bream.
P. G. Wodehouse
193
“Get your coat.”
“All right,” said Bream.
“And cap.”
“All right,” said Bream.
He followed Billie in a docile manner out through
the front door, and they made their way to the garage
at the back of the house, both silent. <strong>The</strong> only difference
between their respective silences was that Billie’s
was thoughtful, while Bream’s was just the silence of a
man who has unhitched his brain and is getting along
as well as he can without it.
In the hall they had left, Jane Hubbard once more
took command of affairs.
“Well, that’s something done,” she said, scratching
Smith’s broad back with the muzzle of her weapon.
“Something accomplished, something done, has earned
a night’s repose. Not that we’re going to get it yet. I
think those fellows are hiding somewhere, and we ought
to search the house and rout them out. It’s a pity Smith
isn’t a bloodhound. He’s a good cake-hound, but as a
watch-dog he doesn’t finish in the first ten.”