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Wodehouse, P. G. (Pelham Grenville), 1881-1975

"Mike"

But rabbits in the daytime is a scheme.
We'll nose about for a gun at the earliest opp. Meanwhile we'd better
go up to Comrade Outwood, and get our names shoved down for the
Society."
"I vote we get some tea first somewhere."
"Then let's beat up a study. I suppose they have studies here. Let's
go and look."
They went upstairs. On the first floor there was a passage with doors
on either side. Psmith opened the first of these.
"This'll do us well," he said.
It was a biggish room, looking out over the school grounds. There were
a couple of deal tables, two empty bookcases, and a looking-glass,
hung on a nail.
"Might have been made for us," said Psmith approvingly.
"I suppose it belongs to some rotter."
"Not now."
"You aren't going to collar it!"
"That," said Psmith, looking at himself earnestly in the mirror, and
straightening his tie, "is the exact programme. We must stake out our
claims. This is practical Socialism."
"But the real owner's bound to turn up some time or other."
"His misfortune, not ours. You can't expect two master-minds like us
to pig it in that room downstairs. There are moments when one wants to
be alone. It is imperative that we have a place to retire to after a
fatiguing day. And now, if you want to be really useful, come and help
me fetch up my box from downstairs.


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