Mr Mulliner Speaking by P. G. Wodehouse Page B

gentlemen?'
     
'No.'
     
'You do not think that a man with such a name would be likely to be a toughish sort of egg?'
     
'He might be, now you mention it.'
     
'He was. In Central Africa, where he spent a good deal of his time exploring, ostriches would bury their heads in the sand at Bashford Braddock's approach and even rhinoceroses, the most ferocious beasts in existence, frequently edged behind trees and hid till he had passed. And the moment he came into Osbert's life my nephew realized with a sickening clearness that those rhinoceroses had known their business.'
     
 
     
Until the advent of this man Braddock (said Mr Mulliner), Fortune seemed to have lavished her favours on my nephew Osbert in full and even overflowing measure. Handsome, like all the Mulliners, he possessed in addition to good looks the inestimable blessings of perfect health, a cheerful disposition, and so much money that Income-Tax assessors screamed with joy when forwarding Schedule D to his address. And, on top of all this, he had fallen deeply in love with a most charming girl and rather fancied that his passion was reciprocated.
     
For several peaceful, happy weeks all went well. Osbert advanced without a set-back of any description through the various stages of calling, sending flowers, asking after her father's lumbago, and patting her mother's Pomeranian to the point where he was able, with the family's full approval, to invite the girl out alone to dinner and a theatre. And it was on this night of nights, when all should have been joy and happiness, that the Braddock menace took shape.
     
Until Bashford Braddock made his appearance, no sort of hitch had occurred to mar the perfect tranquillity of the evening's proceedings. The dinner had been excellent, the play entertaining. Twice during the third act Osbert had ventured to squeeze the girl's hand in a warm, though of course gentlemanly, manner: and it seemed to him that the pressure had been returned. It is not surprising, therefore, that by the time they were parting on the steps of her house he had reached the conclusion that he was onto a good thing which should be pushed along.
     
Putting his fortune to the test, to win or lose it all, Osbert Mulliner reached forward, clasped Mabel Petherick-Soames to his bosom, and gave her a kiss so ardent that in the silent night it sounded like somebody letting off a Mills bomb.
     
And scarcely had the echoes died away, when he became aware that there was standing at his elbow a tall, broad-shouldered man in evening dress and an opera hat.
     
There was a pause. The girl was the first to speak.
     
'Hullo, Bashy,' she said, and there was annoyance in her voice. 'Where on earth did you spring from? I thought you were exploring on the Congo or somewhere.'
     
The man removed his opera hat, squashed it flat, popped it out again and spoke in a deep, rumbling voice.
     
'I returned from the Congo this morning. I have been dining with your father and mother. They informed me that you had gone to the theatre with this gentleman.'
     
'Mr Mulliner. My cousin, Bashford Braddock.'
     
'How do you do?' said Osbert.
     
There was another pause. Bashford Braddock removed his opera hat, squashed it flat, popped it out again and replaced it on his head. He seemed disappointed that he could not play a tune on it.
     
'Well, good night,' said Mabel.
     
'Good night,' said Osbert.
     
'Good night,' said Bashford Braddock.
     
The door closed, and Osbert, looking from it to his companion, found that the other was staring at him with a peculiar expression in his eyes. They were hard, glittering eyes. Osbert did not like them.
     
'Mr Mulliner,' said Bashford Braddock.
     
'Hullo?' said Osbert.
     
'A word with you. I saw all.'
     
'All?'
     
'All. Mr Mulliner, you love that girl.'
     
'I do.'
     
'So do I.'
     
'You do?'
     
'I do.'
     
Osbert felt a little embarrassed. All he could think of to say was that it made them seem like one great big family.
     
'I have