By: P.G. Wodehouse

“Oh, thinking?” said Freddie, impressed. “Right-ho!”

By: P.G. Wodehouse

“You’re dashed hard on a fellow,” said Freddie.

By: P.G. Wodehouse

A damp face with twigs sticking to it was protruding from a nearby yew.

By: P.G. Wodehouse

“You persist in the delusion that my name is William.”

By: P.G. Wodehouse

“I’d like to knock you for a goal!”

By: P.G. Wodehouse

“When it comes to doping out a scheme, you’re the snake’s eyebrows!”

By: P.G. Wodehouse

“My name’s McTodd — Ralston McTodd.”

By: P.G. Wodehouse

“It seems to me the nearest thing to slavery that I have ever struck.”

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘I have only just found out your name, Mr. McTodd.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘Did you throw that flowerpot?’ he demanded coldly.

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘When we have turned this next corner you will see a most remarkable sight.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

He melted away into the shrubbery just in time to avoid Miss Peavey.

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘There is no finer tonic than a good look at a lobelia immediately after breakfast.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘It’s much too dark to see flowers.’

By: P.G. Wodehouse

‘I have never gone in largely for crime hitherto, but something tells me I shall be rather good at it.’