[It's some three days before a bee comes buzzing up to Eddie with a new missive. It's looking a bit happier, whether that's due to the content of the letter or its general joie de vivre is anyone's guess.]
Mr. Edward Nein-Riggs 3337 Cream Puff Way
I've been talking with Sasha about matters. He asked me to come do so after we had our row. It's cleared a few things up, I think. Eddie, please take this apology as it's meant: I'm sorry. I think I've sorted out what the deuce it is that's putting me off, but Sasha set me to rights on the matter! Entirely so, and I'm sorry for ever thinking you might be that sort of man.
You've always struck me as a rather bold fellow. High-spirited, some might say. Like a dragonwildebeest warhorse, charging to and fro where you will in the thick of things. The best part of a warhorse, I suppose, beyond being a frightfully handsome animal is that it can trample its foes when the moment's called for. Brave and cheering in a bind when its rider's feeling his lowest, what?
Sometimes, though, they can be a bit vicious without meaning to, stamping on toes, running wild without listening one jot to the chappie whose hanging onto the reins, or galloping right over the chaps looking out for them. I thought you might be that sort of fellow. It's just that when you talk about Sasha - about private matters - it sounds awfully like you're just having your way with him and he's just got to carry on with what pleases you.
I know you aren't now! Really, I understand better, and I should have just asked. It's not polite to go inquiring into the personal affairs of another gentleman, though. I'm sorry, I truly am. There have just been more times than I care to count when I've had a girl madly in love with me not listening to a dashed word I say apart from the ones she wants to hear.
no subject
Mr. Edward Nein-Riggs
3337 Cream Puff Way
I've been talking with Sasha about matters. He asked me to come do so after we had our row. It's cleared a few things up, I think. Eddie, please take this apology as it's meant: I'm sorry. I think I've sorted out what the deuce it is that's putting me off, but Sasha set me to rights on the matter! Entirely so, and I'm sorry for ever thinking you might be that sort of man.
You've always struck me as a rather bold fellow. High-spirited, some might say. Like a
dragonwildebeestwarhorse, charging to and fro where you will in the thick of things. The best part of a warhorse, I suppose, beyond being a frightfully handsome animal is that it can trample its foes when the moment's called for. Brave and cheering in a bind when its rider's feeling his lowest, what?Sometimes, though, they can be a bit vicious without meaning to, stamping on toes, running wild without listening one jot to the chappie whose hanging onto the reins, or galloping right over the chaps looking out for them. I thought you might be that sort of fellow. It's just that when you talk about Sasha - about private matters - it sounds awfully like you're just having your way with him and he's just got to carry on with what pleases you.
I know you aren't now! Really, I understand better, and I should have just asked. It's not polite to go inquiring into the personal affairs of another gentleman, though. I'm sorry, I truly am. There have just been more times than I care to count when I've had a girl madly in love with me not listening to a dashed word I say apart from the ones she wants to hear.
Deepest Regrets,
B. W. Wooster