: P. G. Wodehouse
: The Little Nugget
: OTB eBook publishing
: 9783956764592
: 1
: CHF 1.60
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 202
: kein Kopierschutz
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB

The 'Little Nugget' of the title is one Ogden Ford, a spoilt, unpleasant child of overindulgent, wealthy parents, he is so dubbed due to his immense ransom value, being a prime target for kidnappers. The novel revolves around numerous schemes to kidnap the boy, for various ends. It is essentially a comic romance, whose hero, Peter Burns, leaves behind a comfortable lifestyle to become a master at the boy's school, thanks to his scheming fiancee, and finds the change of lifestyle invigorating.(Excerpt from Wikipedia)

II


There are some situations in life so unexpected, so trying, that, as far as concerns our opinion of those subjected to them, we agree, as it were, not to count them; we refuse to allow the victim's behaviour in circumstances so exacting to weigh with us in our estimate of his or her character. We permit the great general, confronted suddenly with a mad bull, to turn and run, without forfeiting his reputation for courage. The bishop who, stepping on a concealed slide in winter, entertains passers-by with momentary rag-time steps, loses none of his dignity once the performance is concluded.

In the same way we must condone the behaviour of Cynthia Drassilis on opening the door of Mrs Ford's sitting-room and admitting, not Ogden, but this total stranger, who accompanied his entry with the remarkable speech recorded at the close of the last section.

She was a girl who prided herself on her carefully blase' and supercilious attitude towards life; but this changeling was too much for her. She released the handle, tottered back, and, having uttered a discordant squeak of amazement, stood staring, eyes and mouth wide open.

On Mrs Ford the apparition had a different effect. The rather foolish smile of welcome vanished from her face as if wiped away with a sponge. Her eyes, fixed and frightened like those of a trapped animal, glared at the intruder. She took a step forward, choking.

'What—what do you mean by daring to enter my room?' she cried.

The man held his ground, unmoved. His bearing was a curious blend of diffidence and aggressiveness. He was determined, but apologetic. A hired assassin of the Middle Ages, resolved to do his job loyally, yet conscious of causing inconvenience to his victim, might have looked the same.

'I am sorry,' he said, 'but I must ask you to let me have the boy,
Mrs Ford.'

Cynthia was herself again now. She raked the intruder with the cool stare which had so disconcerted Lord Mountry.

'Who is this gentleman?' she asked languidly.

The intruder was made of tougher stuff than his lordship. He met her eye with qui