It was a nasty look. It made me feel as if I were something the dog had brought in and intended to bury later on, when he had time.

Mike nodded. A sombre nod. The nod Napoleon might have given if somebody had met him in 1812 and said, "So, you're back from Moscow, eh?

He had the look of one who had drunk the cup of life and found a dead beetle at the bottom.

We Woosters freeze like the dickens when we seek sympathy and meet with cold reserve. "Nothing further Jeeves", I said with quiet dignity.

Providence seems to look after the chumps of this world; and, personally, I'm all for it.

If there is one thing I dislike, it is the man who tries to air his grievances when I wish to air mine.

Well, you certainly are the most wonderfully woolly baa-lamb that ever stepped.