“ If he ever tries to grow on me, I’ll have him amputated.”
“ Well, putting all that on one side,” said Ukridge, “how did things go off?”
I described the afternoon’s activities in a few tense words.
“ Well, I’m sorry, old horse,” said Ukridge, when I had finished. “I can’t say more than that, can I? I’m sorry. I give you my solemn word I didn’t know what I was letting you in for. But it was a life and death matter. There was no other way out. Flossie insisted on it. Wouldn’t budge an inch.”
In my anguish I had forgotten all about the impenetrable mystery of Flossie.
“ Who the devil is Flossie?” I asked.
“ What! Flossie? You don’t know who Flossie is? My dear old man, collect yourself. You must remember Flossie. The barmaid at the Crown in Kennington. The girl Battling Bills
