P. G. Wodehouse: The Man Upstairs and Other Stories

19. IN ALCALA (continued)

'What are you doing out of bed at this time of night? They don't work you all day, do they?'

'No; they'd like to, but they don't. I have been writing.'

'Writing what? Say, you don't mind my putting you on the witness-stand, do you? If you do, say so, and I'll cut out the District Attorney act and talk about the weather.'

'Not a bit, really, I assure you. Please ask as many questions as you like.'

'Guess there's no doubt about your being English, George. We don't have time over here to shoot it off like that. If you'd have just said "Sure!" I'd have got a line on your meaning. You don't mind me doing school-marm, George, do you? It's all for your good.'

'Sure,' said Rutherford, with a grin.

She smiled approvingly.

'That's better! You're Little Willie, the Apt Pupil, all right. What were we talking about before we switched off on to the educational rail? I know--about your writing. What were you writing?'

'A story.'

'For a paper?'

'For a magazine.'

'What! One of the fiction stories about the Gibson hero and the girl whose life he saved, like you read?'

'That's the idea.'

She looked at him with a new interest.

'Gee, George, who'd have thought it! Fancy you being one of the high-brows! You ought to hang out a sign. You look just ordinary.'

'Thanks!'