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Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville), 1881-1975

"A Damsel in Distress"

For a moment he was
inclined to lay bare his soul; but his nerve was broken. He did not
want her to mistake the outpouring of a strong man's heart for the
irresponsible ravings of a too hearty diner. It was one of Life's
ironies. Here he was for the first time all keyed up to go right
ahead, and he couldn't do it.
"It's the heat of the room," said Alice. "Shall we go and sit
outside on the terrace? Never mind about the lemonade. I'm not
really thirsty."
Reggie followed her like a lamb. The prospect of the cool night air
was grateful.
"That," murmured George, as he watched them depart, "ought to hold
you for a while!"
He perceived Albert hastening towards him.

CHAPTER 13.
Albert was in a hurry. He skimmed over the carpet like a
water-beetle.
"Quick!" he said.
He cast a glance at the maid, George's co-worker. She was reading a
novelette with her back turned.
"Tell 'er you'll be back in five minutes," said Albert, jerking a
thumb.
"Unnecessary. She won't notice my absence. Ever since she
discovered that I had never met her cousin Frank in America, I have
meant nothing in her life."
"Then come on.


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