He had a smooth, clean-shaven
face, and a cat-like way of moving. As Pugsy had stated in effect,
he wore a tail-coat, trousers with a crease which brought a smile
of kindly approval to Psmith's face, and patent-leather boots of
pronounced shininess. Gloves and a tall hat, which he carried,
completed an impressive picture.
He moved softly into the room.
"I wished to see the editor."
Psmith waved a hand towards Billy.
"The treat has not been denied you," he said. "Before you is
Comrade Windsor, the Wyoming cracker-jack. He is our editor. I
myself--I am Psmith--though but a subordinate, may also claim the
title in a measure. Technically, I am but a sub-editor; but such is
the mutual esteem in which Comrade Windsor and I hold each other
that we may practically be said to be inseparable. We have no
secrets from each other. You may address us both impartially. Will
you sit for a space?"
He pushed a chair towards the visitor, who seated himself with the
care inspired by a perfect trouser-crease. There was a momentary
silence while he selected a spot on the table on which to place his
hat.
"The style of the paper has changed greatly, has it not, during the
past few weeks?" he said. "I have never been, shall I say, a
constant reader of _Cosy Moments_, and I may be wrong. But is not its
interest in current affairs a recent development?"
"You are very right," responded Psmith.
Pages:
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73