Jean Rhys and Charlotte Bronte

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Jeeves and Wooster

jeeves

 

…and the thought that if that detective had not called his shots correctly, Gussie’s notebook might be concealed anywhere in these great spaces, was a chilling one. I was standing there, hoping for the best, when my meditations were broken in upon by an odd gargling sort of noise, something like static and something like distant thunder, and to cut a long story short this proved to proceed from the larynx of the dog Bartholomous.