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Page 51
Psmith's injunction to him not to talk much was unnecessary. Mike, as
always, was rendered utterly dumb by the sight of suffering. He sat at
his desk, occupying himself as best he could with the driblets of work
which came to him.
Mr Waller's silence and absentness continued unchanged. The habit of
years had made his work mechanical. Probably few of the customers who
came to cash cheques suspected that there was anything the matter with
the man who paid them their money. After all, most people look on the
cashier of a bank as a sort of human slot-machine. You put in your
cheque, and out comes money. It is no affair of yours whether life is
treating the machine well or ill that day.
The hours dragged slowly by till five o'clock struck, and the cashier,
putting on his coat and hat, passed silently out through the swing
doors. He walked listlessly. He was evidently tired out.
Mike shut his ledger with a vicious bang, and went across to find
Psmith. He was glad the day was over.
20. Concerning a Cheque
Things never happen quite as one expects them to. Mike came to the
office next morning prepared for a repetition of the previous day. He
was amazed to find the cashier not merely cheerful, but even
exuberantly cheerful. Edward, it appeared, had rallied in the
afternoon, and, when his father had got home, had been out of danger.
He was now going along excellently, and had stumped Ada, who was
nursing him, with a question about the Thirty Years' War, only a few
minutes before his father had left to catch his train. The cashier was
overflowing with happiness and goodwill towards his species. He greeted
customers with bright remarks on the weather, and snappy views on the
leading events of the day: the former tinged with optimism, the latter
full of a gentle spirit of toleration. His attitude towards the latest
actions of His Majesty's Government was that of one who felt that,
after all, there was probably some good even in the vilest of his
fellow creatures, if one could only find it.
Altogether, the cloud had lifted from the Cash Department. All was joy,
jollity, and song.
'The attitude of Comrade Waller,' said Psmith, on being informed of the
change, 'is reassuring. I may now think of my own troubles. Comrade
Bristow has blown into the office today in patent leather boots with
white kid uppers, as I believe the technical term is. Add to that the
fact that he is still wearing the satin tie, the waistcoat, and the
ring, and you will understand why I have definitely decided this
morning to abandon all hope of his reform. Henceforth my services, for
what they are worth, are at the disposal of Comrade Bickersdyke. My
time from now onward is his. He shall have the full educative value of
my exclusive attention. I give Comrade Bristow up. Made straight for
the corner flag, you understand,' he added, as Mr Rossiter emerged from
his lair, 'and centred, and Sandy Turnbull headed a beautiful goal. I
was just telling Jackson about the match against Blackburn Rovers,' he
said to Mr Rossiter.
'Just so, just so. But get on with your work, Smith. We are a little
behind-hand. I think perhaps it would be as well not to leave it just
yet.'
'I will leap at it at once,' said Psmith cordially.
Mike went back to his department.
The day passed quickly. Mr Waller, in the intervals of work, talked a
good deal, mostly of Edward, his doings, his sayings, and his
prospects. The only thing that seemed to worry Mr Waller was the
problem of how to employ his son's almost superhuman talents to the
best advantage. Most of the goals towards which the average man strives
struck him as too unambitious for the prodigy.
By the end of the day Mike had had enough of Edward. He never wished to
hear the name again.
We do not claim originality for the statement that things never happen
quite as one expects them to. We repeat it now because of its profound
truth. The Edward's pneumonia episode having ended satisfactorily (or,
rather, being apparently certain to end satisfactorily, for the
invalid, though out of danger, was still in bed), Mike looked forward
to a series of days unbroken by any but the minor troubles of life. For
these he was prepared. What he did not expect was any big calamity.
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