CHAPTER 6. THE RUMMY AFFAIR OF OLD BIFFY
'Jeeves,' I said, emerging from the old tub, 'rally round.'
'Yes, sir.'
I beamed on the man with no little geniality. I was putting in a week or two in Paris at the moment, and there's something about Paris that always makes me feel fairly full of espièglerie and joie de vivre .
'Lay out our gent's medium-smart raiment, suitable for Bohemian revels,' I said. 'I am lunching with an artist bloke on the other side of the river.'
'Very good, sir.'
'And if anybody calls for me, Jeeves, say that I shall be back towards the quiet evenfall.'
'Yes, sir. Mr Biffen rang up on the telephone while you were in your bath.'
'Mr Biffen? Good heavens!'
Amazing how one's always running across fellows in foreign cities—coves, I mean,
