‘Don’t you indeed?’ I replied, and produced a couple of identical gold cigarette cases from my pockets. ‘The only snag is knowing what to do with the things, my life never being organized to meet such a situation. I think I’ll reserve one for the hock shop, and have the other engraved “With Gratitude From a Successful Patient.” Then I can offer people cigarettes from it, and do my professional standing no end of good. Though I suppose I might as well have “With Gratitude from Her Royal Highness” while I’m about it, don’t you think?’ I’d left Long Wotton that morning to the touching distress of everybody, particularly the sub-postmistress, who burst into tears and gummed up all the threepenny stamps. Even the old uncle had congratulated me on handling the Nutbeams, and not only written a comfortable cheque as promised but given me a straw hat from Jamaica. Percy Nutbeam himself had smartly disappeared from the district, it was rumoured to sell cars in a Piccadilly showroom, and I’d half a mind to go along later and make faces through the plate-glass window.
