"I suppose you're going to the 'Varsity?" he said.
"Rather," said Mike, lacing his boots. "You are, of course? Cambridge, I hope. I'm going to King's."
"Between ourselves," confided Psmith, "I'm dashed if I know what's going to happen to me. I am the thingummy of what's-its-name."
"You look it," said Mike, brushing his hair.
(from Psmith In the City, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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