"Fittleworth!' He shot an accusing glance at me. "Friend of yours, isn't he?"
"Oh, bosom."
"You would do well to choose your friends more carefully," he said, with the first lapse from that strange benevolence of his which he had yet shown.
I suppose this was really the moment for embarking upon an impassioned defense of Boko, stressing his admirable qualities. Not being able to think of any, however, I remained silent, and he carried on.
(from Jeeves in the Morning, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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