You know how it is. You go along for years looking on a fellow as a blister and a menace to the public weal, and then one day you suddenly hear of some decent thing he's done and it makes you feel there mut be good in the chap, after all. It was so in the matter of this Glossop. I had suffered much at his hands since first our paths had crossed. In the human Zoo which Fate has caused to centre about Bertram Wooster, he had always ranked high up among the more vicious specimens - man good judges indeed, indeed, considering that he even competed for the blue ribbon with that great scourge of modern times, my Aunt Agatha. But now, reviewing his recent conduct, I must admit that i found myself definitely softening towards him.
Nobody, I reasoned who could slosh young Seabury like that could be altogether bad. There must be fine metal somewhere among the dross.
(from Thank You, Jeeves, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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