"I happened to be taking a caravan holiday in this neighborhood, Lady Constance, and finding myself near Market Blandings last night, I thought I would . . . ."
"Why, of course! We should never have orgiven you if you had not come to see us. Should we Clarence?"
"Eh?
"I said, should we?"
"Should we what?" said Lord Emsworth, who was still adjusting his mind.
Lady Constance's lips tightened, and a moment passed during which it seemed always a fifty-fifty chance that a handsome silver ink-pot would fly through the air in the direction of her brother's head. But she was a strong woman. She fought down the impulse.
(from Summer Lightning, by Sir Pelham Wodehouse)
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