Right Ho, Jeeves by P. G. Wodehouse — Read

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"And yet, Jeeves," I said, twiddling a thoughtful steering wheel, "there is always the bright side. "

Some twenty minutes had elapsed, and having picked the honest fellow up outside the front door, I was driving in the two-seater to the picturesque town of Market Snodsbury. Since we had parted -- he to go to his lair and fetch his hat, I to remain in my room and complete the formal costume -- I had been doing some close thinking.

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