Psmith in the City
Page 22
22. And Take Steps
On returning to the bank, Mike found Mr Waller in the grip of apeculiarly varied set of mixed feelings. Shortly after Mike's departurefor the Mecca, the cashier had been summoned once more into thePresence, and had there been informed that, as apparently he had notbeen directly responsible for the gross piece of carelessness by whichthe bank had suffered so considerable a loss (here Sir John puffed outhis cheeks like a meditative toad), the matter, as far as he wasconcerned, was at an end. On the other hand--! Here Mr Waller washauled over the coals for Incredible Rashness in allowing a mere juniorsubordinate to handle important tasks like the paying out of money, andso on, till he felt raw all over. However, it was not dismissal. Thatwas the great thing. And his principal sensation was one of relief.
Mingled with the relief were sympathy for Mike, gratitude to him forhaving given himself up so promptly, and a curiously dazed sensation,as if somebody had been hitting him on the head with a bolster.
All of which emotions, taken simultaneously, had the effect ofrendering him completely dumb when he saw Mike. He felt that he did notknow what to say to him. And as Mike, for his part, simply wanted to belet alone, and not compelled to talk, conversation was at something ofa standstill in the Cash Department.
After five minutes, it occurred to Mr Waller that perhaps the best planwould be to interview Psmith. Psmith would know exactly how mattersstood. He could not ask Mike point-blank whether he had been dismissed.But there was the probability that Psmith had been informed and wouldpass on the information.
Psmith received the cashier with a dignified kindliness.
'Oh, er, Smith,' said Mr Waller, 'I wanted just to ask you aboutJackson.'
Psmith bowed his head gravely.
'Exactly,' he said. 'Comrade Jackson. I think I may say that you havecome to the right man. Comrade Jackson has placed himself in my hands,and I am dealing with his case. A somewhat tricky business, but I shallsee him through.'
'Has he--?' Mr Waller hesitated.
'You were saying?' said Psmith.
'Does Mr Bickersdyke intend to dismiss him?'
'At present,' admitted Psmith, 'there is some idea of that descriptionfloating--nebulously, as it were--in Comrade Bickersdyke's mind.Indeed, from what I gather from my client, the push was actuallyadministered, in so many words. But tush! And possibly bah! we knowwhat happens on these occasions, do we not? You and I are students ofhuman nature, and we know that a man of Comrade Bickersdyke'swarm-hearted type is apt to say in the heat of the moment a great dealmore than he really means. Men of his impulsive character cannot helpexpressing themselves in times of stress with a certain generousstrength which those who do not understand them are inclined to take alittle too seriously. I shall have a chat with Comrade Bickersdyke atthe conclusion of the day's work, and I have no doubt that we shallboth laugh heartily over this little episode.'
Mr Waller pulled at his beard, with an expression on his face thatseemed to suggest that he was not quite so confident on this point. Hewas about to put his doubts into words when Mr Rossiter appeared, andPsmith, murmuring something about duty, turned again to his ledger. Thecashier drifted back to his own department.
It was one of Psmith's theories of Life, which he was accustomed topropound to Mike in the small hours of the morning with his feet on themantelpiece, that the secret of success lay in taking advantage ofone's occasional slices of luck, in seizing, as it were, the happymoment. When Mike, who had had the passage to write out ten times atWrykyn on one occasion as an imposition, reminded him that Shakespearehad once said something about there being a tide in the affairs of men,which, taken at the flood, &c., Psmith had acknowledged with an easygrace that possibly Shakespeare _had_ got on to it first, and thatit was but one more proof of how often great minds thought alike.
Though waiving his claim to the copyright of the maxim, he neverthelesshad a high opinion of it, and frequently acted upon it in the conductof his own life.
Thus, when approaching the Senior Conservative Club at five o'clockwith the idea of finding Mr Bickersdyke there, he observed his quarryentering the Turkish Baths which stand some twenty yards from theclub's front door, he acted on his maxim, and decided, instead ofwaiting for the manager to finish his bath before approaching him onthe subject of Mike, to corner him in the Baths themselves.
He gave Mr Bickersdyke five minutes' start. Then, reckoning that bythat time he would probably have settled down, he pushed open the doorand went in himself. And, having paid his money, and left his bootswith the boy at the threshold, he was rewarded by the sight of themanager emerging from a box at the far end of the room, clad in themottled towels which the bather, irrespective of his personal taste indress, is obliged to wear in a Turkish bath.
Psmith made for the same box. Mr Bickersdyke's clothes lay at the headof one of the sofas, but nobody else had staked out a claim. Psmithtook possession of the sofa next to the manager's. Then, humminglightly, he undressed, and made his way downstairs to the Hot Rooms. Herather fancied himself in towels. There was something about them whichseemed to suit his figure. They gave him, he though, rather a_debonnaire_ look. He paused for a moment before the looking-glassto examine himself, with approval, then pushed open the door of the HotRooms and went in.