Psmith in the City Read online

  12. In a Nutshell

  Mr Bickersdyke sat in his private room at the New Asiatic Bank with apile of newspapers before him. At least, the casual observer would havesaid that it was Mr Bickersdyke. In reality, however, it was an activevolcano in the shape and clothes of the bank-manager. It was freelyadmitted in the office that morning that the manager had lowered allrecords with ease. The staff had known him to be in a bad temperbefore--frequently; but his frame of mind on all previous occasions hadbeen, compared with his present frame of mind, that of a ratherexceptionally good-natured lamb. Within ten minutes of his arrival theentire office was on the jump. The messengers were collected in apallid group in the basement, discussing the affair in whispers andendeavouring to restore their nerve with about sixpenn'orth of thebeverage known as 'unsweetened'. The heads of departments, to a man,had bowed before the storm. Within the space of seven minutes and aquarter Mr Bickersdyke had contrived to find some fault with each ofthem. Inward Bills was out at an A.B.C. shop snatching a hasty cup ofcoffee, to pull him together again. Outward Bills was sitting at hisdesk with the glazed stare of one who has been struck in the thorax bya thunderbolt. Mr Rossiter had been torn from Psmith in the middle of ahighly technical discussion of the Manchester United match, just as hewas showing--with the aid of a ball of paper--how he had once seenMeredith centre to Sandy Turnbull in a Cup match, and was now leapingabout like a distracted grasshopper. Mr Waller, head of the CashDepartment, had been summoned to the Presence, and after listeningmeekly to a rush of criticism, had retired to his desk with the air ofa beaten spaniel.

  Only one man of the many in the building seemed calm and happy--Psmith.

  Psmith had resumed the chat about Manchester United, on Mr Rossiter'sreturn from the lion's den, at the spot where it had been broken off;but, finding that the head of the Postage Department was in no mood fordiscussing football (or any thing else), he had postponed his remarksand placidly resumed his work.

  Mr Bickersdyke picked up a paper, opened it, and began searching thecolumns. He had not far to look. It was a slack season for thenewspapers, and his little trouble, which might have received aparagraph in a busy week, was set forth fully in three-quarters of acolumn.

  The column was headed, 'Amusing Heckling'.

  Mr Bickersdyke read a few lines, and crumpled the paper up with asnort.

  The next he examined was an organ of his own shade of politicalopinion. It too, gave him nearly a column, headed 'Disgraceful Scene atKenningford'. There was also a leaderette on the subject.

  The leaderette said so exactly what Mr Bickersdyke thought himself thatfor a moment he was soothed. Then the thought of his grievancereturned, and he pressed the bell.

  'Send Mr Smith to me,' he said.

  William, the messenger, proceeded to inform Psmith of the summons.

  Psmith's face lit up.

  'I am always glad to sweeten the monotony of toil with a chat withLittle Clarence,' he said. 'I shall be with him in a moment.'

  He cleaned his pen very carefully, placed it beside his ledger, flickeda little dust off his coatsleeve, and made his way to the manager'sroom.

  Mr Bickersdyke received him with the ominous restraint of a tigercrouching for its spring. Psmith stood beside the table with languidgrace, suggestive of some favoured confidential secretary waiting forinstructions.

  A ponderous silence brooded over the room for some moments. Psmithbroke it by remarking that the Bank Rate was unchanged. He mentionedthis fact as if it afforded him a personal gratification.

  Mr Bickersdyke spoke.

  'Well, Mr Smith?' he said.

  'You wished to see me about something, sir?' inquired Psmith,ingratiatingly.

  'You know perfectly well what I wished to see you about. I want to hearyour explanation of what occurred last night.'

  'May I sit, sir?'

  He dropped gracefully into a chair, without waiting for permission,and, having hitched up the knees of his trousers, beamed winningly atthe manager.

  'A deplorable affair,' he said, with a shake of his head. 'Extremelydeplorable. We must not judge these rough, uneducated men too harshly,however. In a time of excitement the emotions of the lower classes areeasily stirred. Where you or I would--'

  Mr Bickersdyke interrupted.

  'I do not wish for any more buffoonery, Mr Smith--'

  Psmith raised a pained pair of eyebrows.

  'Buffoonery, sir!'

  'I cannot understand what made you act as you did last night, unlessyou are perfectly mad, as I am beginning to think.'

  'But, surely, sir, there was nothing remarkable in my behaviour? When amerchant has attached himself to your collar, can you do less thansmite him on the other cheek? I merely acted in self-defence. You sawfor yourself--'

  'You know what I am alluding to. Your behaviour during my speech.'

  'An excellent speech,' murmured Psmith courteously.

  'Well?' said Mr Bickersdyke.

  'It was, perhaps, mistaken zeal on my part, sir, but you must rememberthat I acted purely from the best motives. It seemed to me--'

  'That is enough, Mr Smith. I confess that I am absolutely at a loss tounderstand you--'

  'It is too true, sir,' sighed Psmith.

  'You seem,' continued Mr Bickersdyke, warming to his subject, andturning gradually a richer shade of purple, 'you seem to be determinedto endeavour to annoy me.' ('No no,' from Psmith.) 'I can only assumethat you are not in your right senses. You follow me about in my club--'

  'Our club, sir,' murmured Psmith.

  'Be good enough not to interrupt me, Mr Smith. You dog my footsteps inmy club--'

  'Purely accidental, sir. We happen to meet--that is all.'

  'You attend meetings at which I am speaking, and behave in a perfectlyimbecile manner.'

  Psmith moaned slightly.

  'It may seem humorous to you, but I can assure you it is extremely badpolicy on your part. The New Asiatic Bank is no place for humour, and Ithink--'

  'Excuse me, sir,' said Psmith.

  The manager started at the familiar phrase. The plum-colour of hiscomplexion deepened.

  'I entirely agree with you, sir,' said Psmith, 'that this bank is noplace for humour.'

  'Very well, then. You--'

  'And I am never humorous in it. I arrive punctually in the morning,and I work steadily and earnestly till my labours are completed. Ithink you will find, on inquiry, that Mr Rossiter is satisfied with mywork.'

  'That is neither here nor--'

  'Surely, sir,' said Psmith, 'you are wrong? Surely your jurisdictionceases after office hours? Any little misunderstanding we may have atthe close of the day's work cannot affect you officially. You couldnot, for instance, dismiss me from the service of the bank if we werepartners at bridge at the club and I happened to revoke.'

  'I can dismiss you, let me tell you, Mr Smith, for studied insolence,whether in the office or not.'

  'I bow to superior knowledge,' said Psmith politely, 'but I confess Idoubt it. And,' he added, 'there is another point. May I continue tosome extent?'

  'If you have anything to say, say it.'

  Psmith flung one leg over the other, and settled his collar.

  'It is perhaps a delicate matter,' he said, 'but it is best to befrank. We should have no secrets. To put my point quite clearly, I mustgo back a little, to the time when you paid us that very welcomeweek-end visit at our house in August.'

  'If you hope to make capital out of the fact that I have been a guestof your father--'

  'Not at all,' said Psmith deprecatingly. 'Not at all. You do not takeme. My point is this. I do not wish to revive painful memories, but itcannot be denied that there was, here and there, some slight bickeringbetween us on that occasion. The fault,' said Psmith magnanimously,'was possibly mine. I may have been too exacting, too capricious.Perhaps so. However, the fact remains that you conceived the happynotion of getting me into this bank, under the impression that, once Iwas in, you would be able to--if I may use the expression--giv
e mebeans. You said as much to me, if I remember. I hate to say it, butdon't you think that if you give me the sack, although my work issatisfactory to the head of my department, you will be by way ofadmitting that you bit off rather more than you could chew? I merelymake the suggestion.'

  Mr Bickersdyke half rose from his chair.

  'You--'

  'Just so, just so, but--to return to the main point--don't you? Thewhole painful affair reminds me of the story of Agesilaus and thePetulant Pterodactyl, which as you have never heard, I will now proceedto relate. Agesilaus--'

  Mr Bickersdyke made a curious clucking noise in his throat.

  'I am boring you,' said Psmith, with ready tact. 'Suffice it to saythat Comrade Agesilaus interfered with the pterodactyl, which was doinghim no harm; and the intelligent creature, whose motto was "Nemo meimpune lacessit", turned and bit him. Bit him good and hard, so thatAgesilaus ever afterwards had a distaste for pterodactyls. Hisreluctance to disturb them became quite a byword. The Society papers ofthe period frequently commented upon it. Let us draw the parallel.'

  Here Mr Bickersdyke, who had been clucking throughout this speech,essayed to speak; but Psmith hurried on.

  'You are Agesilaus,' he said. 'I am the Petulant Pterodactyl. You, if Imay say so, butted in of your own free will, and took me from a happyhome, simply in order that you might get me into this place under you,and give me beans. But, curiously enough, the major portion of thatvegetable seems to be coming to you. Of course, you can administer thepush if you like; but, as I say, it will be by way of a confession thatyour scheme has sprung a leak. Personally,' said Psmith, as one friendto another, 'I should advise you to stick it out. You never know whatmay happen. At any moment I may fall from my present high standard ofindustry and excellence; and then you have me, so to speak, where thehair is crisp.'

  He paused. Mr Bickersdyke's eyes, which even in their normal stateprotruded slightly, now looked as if they might fall out at any moment.His face had passed from the plum-coloured stage to something beyond.Every now and then he made the clucking noise, but except for that hewas silent. Psmith, having waited for some time for something in theshape of comment or criticism on his remarks, now rose.

  'It has been a great treat to me, this little chat,' he said affably,'but I fear that I must no longer allow purely social enjoyments tointerfere with my commercial pursuits. With your permission, I willrejoin my department, where my absence is doubtless already causingcomment and possibly dismay. But we shall be meeting at the clubshortly, I hope. Good-bye, sir, good-bye.'

  He left the room, and walked dreamily back to the Postage Department,leaving the manager still staring glassily at nothing.