Summary

Portrait of P. G. Wodehouse P. G. Wodehouse The Prince and Betty — XXVI. JOURNEY'S END (1912)

Swathed in its folds, she suggested a child playing at being grown up. Her sleeves were rolled back to the elbow, and her slim arms dripped with water. Strands of brown hair were blowing loose in the evening breeze. To John she had never seemed so bewitchingly pretty. He stared at her till the pallor of her face gave way to a warm red glow.
As they stood there, speechless, there came from the other side of the chimney, softly at first, then swelling, the sound of a child's voice, raised in a tentative wail. Betty started violently.
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Portrait of P. G. Wodehouse P. G. Wodehouse The Prince and Betty — XXVI. JOURNEY'S END (1912)

As he spoke, he brought the stick down on the knuckles which disfigured the edges of the trap. The intruder uttered a howl and dropped out of sight. In the passage below there were whisperings and mutterings, growing gradually louder till something resembling coherent conversation came to John's ears, as he knelt by the trap making meditative billiard shots with the stick at a small pebble.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of P. G. Wodehouse P. G. Wodehouse The Prince and Betty — XXVI. JOURNEY'S END (1912)

How is Sam?"
There was silence below. The time began to pass slowly. The Irishmen on the other roof, now definitely abandoning hope of further entertainment, proceeded with hoots of derision to climb down one by one into the recesses of their own house.
And then from the street far below there came a fusillade of shots and a babel of shouts and counter-shouts. The roof of the house next door filled again with a magical swiftness, and the low wall facing the street became black with the backs of those craning over. There appeared to be great doings in the street.
John smiled comfortably.
Source: Wikisource

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