“ No?” said Lord Emsworth, again feeling that a pin had worked loose in the machinery of the conversation.
“ I was once offered a princely sum,” went on Psmith, now floating happily along on the tide of his native exuberance, “to write a ballad for the Fishmonger’s Gazette entitled, ‘Herbert the Turbot.’ But I was firm. I declined.”
“ Indeed?” said Lord Emsworth.
“ One has one’s self-respect,” said Psmith.
“ Oh, decidedly,” said Lord Emsworth.
“ It was painful, of course. The editor broke down completely when he realised that my refusal was final. However, I sent him on with a letter of introduction to John Drinkwater, who, I believe, turned him out quite a good little effort on the theme.”
At this moment, when Lord Emsworth was feeling a trifle dizzy, and Psmith,
